


Surprises

by impalagirl, wilddragonflying



Series: Roleplays [51]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Mating, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Steve, Pregnancy, Steve and Bucky have a kid, Unplanned Pregnancy, alpha bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 08:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalagirl/pseuds/impalagirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: Steve's current annoyance is caused by the scene in the advertisement where a child is pulling a wagon, collecting scrap; he's had it hurled at him often enough, "Where's your little red wagon, sport?" and other, ruder, iterations, that when the guy in front of him starts badmouthing the advertisement, Steve takes his irritation out on him.Predictably, it doesn't go well.





	

Steve was used to feeling like the odd man out; he'd felt it all his life, honestly, but this just annoyed him. He's in a movie theater, and on the screen is an advertisement trying to drum up support to help with the war effort. Steve would love to be able to help more than he is right now, but unfortunately he can't, thanks to the fact that he hasn't presented yet.

Most people presented during puberty; usually one week where your body was completely flooded with hormones, and you went through a heat, rut, or just uncomfortable, near-constant arousal depending on if you were an omega, alpha, or beta, respectively. The problem is, presenting is an incredible strain on the body, and Steve's never had the healthiest one to begin with. As near as the few doctor's he'd been able to afford seeing could tell, he had never presented because the strain it would put on his system would most likely kill him. So, in the eyes of most of society, Steve was still a child, despite being just over twenty years old.

Steve's annoyance is caused by the scene in the advertisement where a child is pulling a wagon, collecting scrap; he's had it hurled at him often enough, "Where's your little red wagon, sport?" and other, ruder, iterations, that when the guy in front of him starts badmouthing the advertisement, Steve takes his irritation out on him.

Predictably, it doesn't go well.

Bucky finds him scrapping in the alley behind the theatre, and wastes absolutely no time in dragging the other guy away from him. "Hey!" he snaps. "What the hell are you doing?"

p>"Teaching the runt a lesson," the man growls, focus shifting from Steve to the other alpha. "Fuck off."

"Walk away," Bucky snarls, "while you still can."

It's enough to give the guy pause, and he decides that he doesn't really want to get into a fight with an alpha - not over a runt, anyway. Steve glares at his retreating back before turning the glare on Bucky. "I had him on the ropes," he mutters as he dusts himself off. 

Bucky cracks a smile. "'Course you did," he says. "You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve says, and then he notices how Bucky's dressed, and something in his chest clenches. "You got your orders?" 

"Yeah," Bucky says, puffing his chest out just a little. "107th."

Steve blinks, and manages to summon a smile from somewhere. "Good," he says. "You shipping out tomorrow?" 

Bucky nods, offers Steve a hopeful smile. "Don't suppose you're free tonight?"

Steve shrugs. "Thought about picking another fight," he says lightly, "but I could be persuaded to do something else." 

Bucky grins. "Thought we could check out that convention that just opened," he says. "Maybe go for a couple of drinks."

"Well... I guess I could do that," Steve says with a grin of his own. 

Bucky laughs and wraps his arm around Steve's shoulders. "Come on," he says. "Let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

When they get to the convention, it's in full swing and crowded as can be; Steve feels a bit claustrophobic, but he sticks close to Bucky and suddenly it doesn't seem so bad. Steve doesn't really want to think about the implications of that. "So," he says conversationally as they leave a food stand behind, Steve with a bag of peanuts in hand and Bucky with a hot dog. "Which demo are you looking for?"

"Stark's sounded pretty good," Bucky mumbles gracelessly through a mouthful of bread and mustard. "Somethin' about a flyin' car."

Steve rolls his eyes affectionately. "Of course that's what you want to go see," he teases. "Well, come on - it's probably going to be at the most ostentatious stage."

Bucky grins. "If you see anything grabs your fancy, just shout."

Steve smiles. "I will; come on, I think Stark's getting ready to start." 

Bucky lets Steve pull him into the crowd, and smiles at a pretty omega who catches his eye. Something tells him tonight's going to be interesting.

Stark's talk is intriguing and funny, but Steve doesn't miss the way the omega from earlier is eyeing Bucky, and the way Bucky's looking back. Steve makes the decision to slip off; he has no desire to watch his very _alpha_ best friend flirt and quite possibly go home with an omega. So while Bucky's distracted, Steve takes advantage of the crowd and his small size to disappear. 

He ends up in another recruitment office. 

* * *

Bucky leaves the next day, and Steve leaves the week after that; he ran into a scientist at the recruitment office who had promised him a chance to get into the army - it was only a chance, but it was more than he'd had before. He goes to train at a place in New Jersey called Camp Lehigh, and there he meets Peggy Carter, alpha and official badass. It's only with her and Erskine's support that Steve manages to keep pushing himself, culminating in the dummy grenade test; Steve is the only one to dive for the grenade, throwing himself on top of it to minimize the explosion, only to realize it wasn't actually a live grenade. His actions earn him the spot of erskine's first guinea pig. 

He goes into the machine a small, unpresented male, and comes out a well-developed omega. 

He doesn't figure out the omega part until after Erskine's death and the adrenaline-fueled chase that follows, when his vision almost goes black followed by what feels like hot water being dumped on him; all of the alphas in the room go still before staring at him, and luckily Peggy is the first to react, dragging Steve away and locking them both in a deserted office. Steve thoroughly embarrasses himself in the ensuing days - presentations usually last a week, but his accelerated metabolism drags him through it in four days. Peggy's presence helps alleviate the symptoms, and Steve will forever be grateful to her for being there for him. 

When he emerges from the other end of his heat, it's to find that he's been assigned to show business, drumming up more support for the war. He suffers through it for six months before finally being sent to the front; granted, it's as part of the troupe, but it's better than nothing. 

When Steve finds out that Bucky's been captured, it's only Peggy's insistence on a proper plan that keeps him from running for the base on his own two feet. His alpha - his _Bucky_ \- is in danger, and Steve will be damned if he's going to sit idly by. 

* * *

Afterwards, Bucky doesn't remember much about Steve's suicide rescue mission, except that he wanted to strangle Steve for doing it and that he probably wouldn't succeed if he tried, what with how... _big_ Steve is. He still doesn't understand that, not really, but he understands the fear he felt when he saw Steve for the first time, when he was separated from him by a pit of fire that Steve was hell-bent on leaping over, just like he understands how good it feels to walk at Steve's side again, even if he has to look up at him now.

He's running on pure adrenaline the whole journey back to camp, and when they finally make it, he's nearly bowled over by sheer exhaustion. He's not the only one; most of his men are forced into the medic's tent as soon as they arrive, but Bucky uses the distraction to slink away and reclaim his old tent. He shouldn't be surprised when Steve follows him.

"You really should go see the medics," Steve says mildly as he ducks into Bucky's tent. "I did pluck you off of a Nazi scientist's table, after all." 

"I'm fine," Bucky says, stripping off his shirt and pointedly keeping his back to Steve while he searches for a new one. "So you finally presented, huh?"

"I - Yeah," Steve says, surprised by the sudden subject change. "Bit of a shock that it was omega, but at least that means I'm healthy now." 

Bucky cuts Steve a sharp look over his shoulder. "Do I even wanna ask?"

Steve blinks. "Ask about what?" he asks hesitantly. 

Bucky gives him a pointed look that almost verges on heated, his gaze moving slowly down Steve's body before returning to his eyes, and turns away.

Steve completely misinterprets Bucky's look. "Oh. Well, I kind of went into heat in a room full of alphas and betas? One of them - Peggy, she's great - helped me through it." 

Bucky can't help the way his hands clench into fists in the shirt he's chosen, the way his jaw sets. "I see."

"She also helped me get across the lines," Steve continues blithely, unaware of Bucky's tension. "Her and Howard Stark." 

"The guy with the car?" Bucky asks, his mind racing to catch up.

"Yeah," Steve says. "Apparently he's a pilot, and he owed Peggy a favor, so they flew me as close to the base as they could before I parachuted in." 

Bucky pulls the shirt on, shakes his head. "Two alphas letting an omega walk right into a Nazi camp, alone. Christ."

Steve's expression turns sheepish. "Peggy was supposed to come with me, but the plane was being fired at - I jumped as Howard was turning it around." 

Bucky round on Steve then. "Don't act like you're the innocent party here," he snaps. "You shouldn't have been there at all. What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking I wasn't going to leave you there to die!" Steve snarls. 

"I could've already been dead!" Bucky cries. "And then what would you have done, gotten yourself killed for _nothing?_ "

"No, I'd have done my best to rescue the rest of the men," Steve yells back. "They'd given you up for dead, Colonel Phillips said your 'rescue plan' was winning the war, and who knows how long that would have taken!" 

"It doesn't matter," Bucky insists. "It's not your place!"

Steve jerks like Bucky slapped him, though he recovers quickly. "Not my _place?_ " he demands, voice little more than a hiss. "Remind me what omegas' 'places' have been for centuries? Oh, that's right - _protecting their families._ If you really think so little about omegas, maybe I should have left you there!" Furious and hurt, Steve turns on his heel and marches for the entrance to the tent. 

At the sight of Steve walking away, something wild and panicked flares to life in Bucky's chest. "Steve, wait."

Steve stops, though he doesn't turn to face Bucky, just glancing over his shoulder. "What?" 

Bucky sighs. "Nothing."

Steve's expression shows his irritation. "Fine," he says shortly. "When you want to talk, you can find me with Colonel Phillips; I need to report in." 

* * *

Bucky barely speaks to Steve after that, and he doesn't really know what he's doing but he does know that every time he sees Steve - especially if he's around another alpha; _especially_ if that alpha is Peggy - something dark and unpleasant coils in his gut, burns in his fingertips, and he can't bring himself to do anything except walk away.

He's in a bar tonight, trying to drown his sorrows, and he'd be succeeding if he hadn't seen Steve walk in ten minutes after him and sequester what's left of _his_ men away in a private room. Bucky knows what he's doing, but it rankles, and he's about halfway to convincing himself that the sour taste in his mouth is due to the fact that an omega is being allowed to stay here, let alone form his own damn task force, when Steve comes up to the bar and the fist around his heart squeezes tighter. It's uncertain as to whether or not Steve intends to talk to him, or if he's just ordering another drink, but Bucky swallows his pride along with the last of his whiskey and crosses the gulf between them that's been widening ever since they got back to camp.

"Hey," he says quietly, and then adds to the bartender, "Put whatever he's having on my tab. And I'll have another."

Steve looks at Bucky in surprise, but he nods when the bartender looks at him questioningly. "Hey," he says. "Finally remember I exist?" 

Bucky sighs. "Are you gonna complain or are you gonna let me buy you a drink?"

Well, that's a no-brainer. "You're buying." 

Bucky laughs, accepts his glass when the bartender returns with their drinks and raises it to his lips. "I don't think I ever thanked you," he says after a moment. "For saving my men, and me."

Steve shrugs. "You'd have done the same, if you were in my position," he says.

"I would have," Bucky agrees, no hesitation. "Which is why I'm also saying sorry."

Steve smiles at that. "Yeah, well, you're welcome, and you're forgiven," he replies. "You got any plans now?"

"Nah," Bucky says, returning his attention to his glass. "Phillips is sayin' I could go home if I wanted. Honourable discharge."

Steve toys with his glass, gathering his courage; it was one thing to ask the brash men in the other room if they wanted to join a new task force, get some revenge on Hydra, but asking Bucky? Asking his best friend, his _family_? It wasn't quite as easy. Still, Steve took a deep breath and then dove in. "You know, I could use a sniper to watch our backs."

Bucky looks up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Steve says, glancing at Bucky. "So, how about it? You wanna follow 'Captain America' into the jaws of death?" 

Bucky laughs, looks away. "Nah," he says. "Can't say I do."

"Oh," Steve says, disappointment washing over him. 

"That skinny kid who wouldn't back down from a fight, though," Bucky continues. "I'll follow him."

Disappointment turns to surprise, and then a pleased grin steals over Steve's face. "Well, he'd be glad to have you." 

Bucky grins back. "You're keeping the outfit, right?"

Steve laughs and rolls his eyes, the knot that's been lodged in his chest since their fight finally loosening. "Y'know," he says, mock-thoughtful, "it's kind of growing on me." 

Bucky's answering grin slips off his face when the bar door opens, and one Peggy Carter walks in. Of course, she heads straight for Steve without so much as looking at Bucky. "Fancy seeing you here, Captain Rogers," she says pleasantly.

"Agent Carter," Steve says, pleasantly surprised. "It's good to see you. Peggy, this is James Barnes, Bucky, this is Peggy Carter." 

Bucky raises a hand in greeting, and Peggy smiles at him before turning back to Steve. "I suppose I know why you're here," she says. "Did it go well?"

Steve grins and nods. "Yeah; got everyone I wanted. What about your meeting?" 

"It went well, thank you." Peggy gives Steve a smile, and reaches past him to pick up his drink. "You don't mind, do you? I'm parched."

"Oh, no - go ahead," Steve says, stepping aside politely. "What're you doing out here? Didn't really think a bar like this was your kind of place." 

Peggy sips from Steve's drink gratefully, and doesn't give it back. "Oh, I don't know," she says with a laugh. "I have been known to let my hair down on occasion. It's just that, circumstances as they are, it's difficult to find the time or the inclination."

"Well, I understand that," Steve says, grinning. "And things are only going to get busier from here." 

"Exactly," Peggy agrees. "But when this is all over, I might even be persuaded to go dancing."

"Well why wait?" Bucky asks, sick of the fruitless back-and-forth.

Peggy considers that for a moment, before sliding her gaze meaningfully between Bucky and Steve. "I don't seem to have found the right partner yet," is her answer.

"Well, maybe you'll find one soon," Steve says, oblivious. 

"I certainly hope so," Peggy says with a smile. "But for now, there's a meeting tomorrow afternoon; you need to be there."

Steve nods, snapping off a salute. "I'll be there." 

Peggy responds with a coy wink, and a smile for Bucky. "See that you are, Captain," she says. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

As soon as she's gone, Steve's drink in hand, Bucky leans over to give Steve a light shove. "Are you blind or something?"

Steve blinks, frowning at Bucky. "What are you talking about?" 

"You could've asked her to dance, y'know," Bucky says. "I wouldn't've been offended."

Steve gives Bucky an odd look. "I'm talking with you, though," he points out. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. "You wouldn't know an opportunity if it bit you on the ass," he teases. "You can go after her. If you need permission."

Steve rolls his eyes. "I don't need permission," he says. "I'm just more interested in spending some time with you right now, since you've been avoiding me and all. I'll see Peggy tomorrow." 

Bucky sighs, but he can't bring himself to argue. "Well in that case," he says, "I'd best get you another drink."

* * *

The Howling Commandos, as the comic - because there's actually _comics_ about them, holy shit - names Steve's group, quickly make a plan and get to work on it. Colonel Phillips summed it up nicely: "We are going to light a fire under Johan Schmidt's ass." 

And that's exactly what they did. 

Until the rain set in, and they found out that Bucky's tent was absolutely ruined after a rough fall while dodging Hydra agents earlier that day. Steve eyes the tattered remains of Bucky's tent, and then his own - whole - tent. "Come on; you can throw your roll in with mine," he offers. 

That's absolutely the last thing Bucky wants to do, but he doesn't have a whole lot of options right now. "Yeah," he sighs, grabbing his stuff. "Okay."

Steve watches Bucky toss his things into the tent and rolls his eyes. "Come on; Dernier's managed to get dinner going." 

Bucky's stomach rumbles agreeably, and he leaves Steve's tent behind with no small amount of relief. They join the others and find a seat, and Bucky warms his hands over the fire, watching Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Y'know," he says conversationally, "it's a physical effort not to run back to that tent and get you both our blankets."

Steve laughs. "Well, I don't need them right now," he says with a grin. "But it is nice to be out in the rain without worrying so much about getting sick." 

"Sick?" Dugan asks. "You don't look like you've been sick a day in your life, Rogers."

Steve chuckles. "There were some years where I was sick more often than not," he informs them. 

"Bullshit," Morita says bluntly. 

Bucky shakes his head. "This guy used to be about this big." He holds his hand an appropriate distance from the floor. "Thin as a rake, and a chest so bad I used to have nightmares about waking up to him wheezing. Pneumonia once a winter, every winter, _if_ we were lucky." He gives Steve a grin. "But not now."

"Not now," Steve agrees with a grin. "Enhanced metabolism and boosted immune system means that even if I do get sick, it'll be very mild. Nice not to worry about dying every time the temperatures dip." 

"Lucky bastard," Dugan laughs.

"He's earned it," Bucky says, quiet but confident.

Steve's too busy grinning at Bucky to miss the significant looks the rest of the Commandos exchange. 

* * *

Morita takes first watch that night, so Steve and Bucky head to their tent shortly after dinner. Bucky's stuff has been sitting in there for a couple of hours now, and Bucky's scent has started to mingle with Steve's. It makes something pleasant curl in Steve's stomach that he's afraid to think too much about. "You still sore from that fall?" Steve asks as he starts stripping to change. 

Bucky shrugs as he unlaces his boots. "Nothing I can't handle."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Don't be an ass; if you're sore, let me know." 

Bucky laughs. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Steve raises an eyebrow. "I could always start poking you and see where it hurts." 

"All right, asshole," Bucky laughs. "I'm a little sore still, but I'm not gonna keel over on you. I'm fine."

Steve gives Bucky's shoulder a careful shove, smiling. "Good; I worry about you, you know." 

"Well, you don't need to," Bucky says, not unkindly. "I can look after myself."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Just because I don't need to doesn't mean I don't want to," he retorts. "Now shut up and get some sleep; we've got last watch." 

"Sir, yes sir," Bucky says, but his smile is fond even as he rolls his eyes. "Night, Steve."

"Night, Buck."

* * *

Steve wakes up the next morning delightfully warm; it lulls him into a drowsy state, enough that he doesn't fully realize what's going on at first. 

'What's going on' turns out to be Bucky spooning him. There's a blanket barrier, but even so Steve can still feel the alpha's arm slung over his waist, pulling him protectively against Bucky's front. Steve relaxes into the hold briefly, the omega in him reveling in being held like this, and then Steve wakes up the rest of the way. 

"Huh?" Bucky mumbles when he feels Steve start to pull away, instinctively tightening his hold. "Don't..."

Steve wants to relax back into Bucky's hold, but there's footsteps outside the tent, growing closer, and he reaches back blindly, swatting until he connects with Bucky's ribs. "Buck," he hisses. "Our watch is starting, get up." 

"What?" Bucky asks, finally opening his eyes. "Shit."

Steve's face heats. "Yeah, now come on - you want Dugan to see us like this?" 

"Do you?" Bucky pulls away abruptly and struggles to his feet, just as Dugan's shadow approaches the tent. "We're up, Dugan, you can go to bed."

"For as much good as that'll do me," they hear him mutter; Steve almost misses it, too absorbed by trying to figure out what Bucky meant. 

* * *

Steve and Bucky are slightly awkward around each other for the first part of their watch, but they're the only ones around to see it, and by the time the others are awake, the two have managed to return to normal.

That lasts for about a day and a half.

They're ambushed, and they must have walked right into it because _no one_ gets any indication that they're not alone besides a branch breaking as some Hydra agents drop out of the trees and onto their heads. All told, it's a brief fight - more of a scuffle, really - but Steve still takes a fist to the face and a knife to the upper arm, leaving him with a lovely shiner that'll heal in a few hours, and a cut that will take a bit longer than that. In the mean time, their medic wants to bandage it, only he's have a hard time actually getting within five feet of Steve. 

"Bucky," Steve says, as patiently as he can manage, "let Falsworth take a look at my arm; he's not going to hurt me."

"The last time he took a look at me I had _bruises_ ," Bucky hisses. "Fucking medic. Was he a butcher before the war?"

"Bucky," Steve says sharply, giving the alpha a flat look. "Back off." It's not exactly what Steve wants - he's rather enjoying Bucky's protectiveness, but it's also not exactly helpful right now. 

Bucky huffs, but acquiesces. "Fine," he says. "But if he hurts you." He moves away with the threat unfinished.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Ignore him when you're patching me up," he tells Falsworth. "He's always been protective; I guess me turning out to be an omega is making that worse."

Falsworth just raises his eyebrows. "Yeah," he says, "I can see that."

Steve frowns. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Falsworth says innocently. "Hold still."

Falsworth is quick and efficient, if not exactly gentle; Steve keeps his grunts of pain to a minimum, mindful of Bucky's unspecified threat to Falsworth. He probably wouldn't go through with it, but Steve doesn't want to test it. Afterwards, he stretches a little before settling down next to Bucky beside the fire. "See? I'm fine," he says, nudging Bucky with his good shoulder. 

"I think we have different definitions," Bucky grouses.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'll be all healed by morning tomorrow thanks to the serum, you know that." 

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No," Steve concedes, "it doesn't. But it also doesn't mean you get to be mean to Falsworth." 

Bucky sighs. "I'll apologise tomorrow," he offers.

"That'd be good," Steve says with a grin. "If you're gonna insist on hovering, though, make yourself useful and grab my sewing kit from the tent, will you? I need to fix the new hole in the suit." 

Bucky sighs, but gets to his feet. "Try not to get yourself killed while I'm gone."

"Quit your complaining, you're walking fifteen feet away," Steve retorts with a chuckle. "Even _I'm_ not that accident-prone." 

Bucky just walks away, but Falsworth catches Steve's eye from across the fire and gives him a meaningful look. "He cares about you," he offers.

"I know he does," Steve sighs. "But he's gotten worse about the protective act ever since I presented. I don't mind him hovering, but he could get overbearing even before Erskine took me into the program." 

Falsworth smiles. "Instincts," he says. "We all feel it. Some more than others."

Steve snorts. "Yeah, you've got that right." 

"Still," Falsworth continues. "He's only trying to help, in a roundabout sort of way."

"Right now he's walking the line between 'helpful' and 'annoying,'" Steve points out after ascertaining that Bucky wasn't within earshot. "I appreciate the help, but just because I'm an omega in a war zone doesn't mean I need an alpha hovering over me." 

"I know," Falsworth soothes him. "And I'm sure he doesn't see it that way. But if you do, you should tell him."

"Usually, I don't - not until he starts hovering excessively," Steve says. "Most of the time, he's no worse than he was before all this," he adds, gesturing to the new body he still wasn't quite used to. 

"Then maybe he just needs time to adjust," Falsworth suggests. "Either way, honesty is important. Here he comes."

Steve turns to give Bucky a grateful smile as he takes the sewing kit. "Thank you," he says. "You want to sit?" 

Bucky takes the offered seat with a soft sigh, and shoots Steve a smile. "You hid that well," he says. "Lucky I like a challenge."

Steve laughs. "I just want to make sure I don't lose any of the needles," he says with a grin. 

"Well, have fun," Bucky says, already turning away, gesturing to be dealt into the card game that Dugan and Jones have going. "Need anything else, let me know."

Steve gives Falsworth a significant look; the Brit just raises an eyebrow in return. 

* * *

A couple of weeks later, they're camping in the middle of another forest when Bucky goes off by himself. Everyone assumes he's gone to the bathroom, but keeps an ear out just in case; he hadn't gone unarmed, but then again none of them did. When a couple of shots ring out, they all tense, but relax when Bucky comes back into camp with a couple of rabbits. "You could've said you were going hunting!" Dugan protests. 

Bucky shrugs. "Didn't plan on it," he says, "just felt like it." He thrusts one of the rabbits at Steve, clearly expecting him to take it.

Steve makes a face, despite the part of him(and these omega instincts are _really_ starting to get annoying) that wants to take the gift from the alpha, that's preening at the attention. "Buck, you know that Morita's the best cook here," he protests. "If you got those for the pot, then give 'em to him." 

"You could'a skinned 'em, made it a bit easier on the guy," Bucky says easily, but he looks a little flustered as he does as he's told. "Spoil sport."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "You're asking the guy who hardly ever set foot outside of the city to skin an animal," he replies, amused. "Unless you want to sit and poke fun at me while I do it and inevitably waste half the meat..." 

Bucky smirks, recovering quickly. "What can I say?" he laughs. "You know me."

Steve rolls his eyes, but he's smirking. "Go give the damn rabbits to Morita." 

Bucky salutes. "Yes sir."

* * *

Two weeks later, they're in the middle of God knows where, camping out once again. Bucky has almost forgotten what it's like to sleep in a real bed, but that thought is far from his mind as he tosses and turns in his sleeping bag, no doubt keeping Steve awake with all the rustling. Even so, when he flops onto his back and decides to break the silence, the first words out of his mouth are, "Are you awake?"

Steve, who'd only been able to doze, blinks and yawns. "Yeah, I'm up. What's on your mind?" 

"All kinds of things," Bucky says honestly. "What's it like to be an omega?"

That didn't exactly come out of left field, but it was close. "A bit confusing," Steve answers thoughtfully. "I've got a whole slew of instincts I didn't have before, and it's hard sometimes to ignore them." 

Bucky nods. "I know what you mean," he says with feeling. "If there was one thing I could lose, it'd be the instincts."

"Ugh, absolutely," Steve groans. "Like, every time you, Dugan, or Morita get too close, I have to stop myself from leaning in; you alphas smell _amazing._ It's annoying as hell." 

Bucky's grateful that the darkness hides the way his eyes widen. "Yeah?" he asks. "It must be hell, living in such close quarters with so many alphas. If there was one thing about being an alpha I could lose, it'd be the instincts."

"Not really," Steve admits. "I've gotten used to it, mostly. Falsworth and Jones are betas, Dernier is mated, and Dugan and Morita have some weird thing going on that makes it easier to ignore them. And I've been living with you for years now. I don't know what'll happen when my next heat rolls around, but hopefully it won't last too long if my metabolism is as fast as they say it is." 

Bucky's heart seizes in his chest. "When is that, anyway?"

Steve frowns. "They're supposed to be every six months, but that's for a mature omega. For a newly-presented one, it's more like once a year. I'm a special case; the best the doctors could figure was somewhere around ten months, which is in another few weeks." 

Bucky hisses out a breath. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Steve admits. "I mean, heats break early only if the omega is knotted, but the symptoms are a lot easier to bear if there's an alpha nearby, so... I don't know." 

Bucky has an irrational surge of jealousy as he realise that Steve has first-hand experience with this, and he does his best to stamp it out. "Would you ask one of us to--?" he asks, cutting off abruptly when he can't bring himself to finish the question.

Steve's quiet for a moment. "I don't know," is his answer. "If I did - Well. You're my best friend, and the one I trust the most. If I did, I'd ask you to keep me company." 

This time, Bucky can't keep from reacting; he nearly chokes on his own spit, and he flails upright. "You-- what?" he splutters. "Steve. Maybe you should just take some leave. I'm sure Phillips would be fine with it." He knows as soon as the words leave his mouth that it's the wrong thing to say."

Steve pushes himself upright to glare at Bucky. "I'm not going to ask for leave for three or four days when we're still hunting down Hydra," he hisses. "I don't need sex, I just need an alpha nearby and I'll be fine. But if that's too much for you to handle, maybe I'll get Dugan to hang out with me." 

Bucky sighs, frustrated. "I didn't mean it like that," he says. "I just-- I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"That's just a part of heats," Steve points out. "They're uncomfortable, unless you're constantly fucking, which isn't an option here, not while we're still fighting." 

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Bucky grouses.

"No, actually, I don't," Steve says irritably. "I'm not a mindreader, Buck." 

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable because _I'm there_ ," Bucky says. "I've seen a lot of you, Steve, but I've never seen you all..." He gestures wordlessly.

Steve stares at Bucky blankly for a moment; when Bucky's meaning clicks, he can't help but laugh. "Buck, not even Peggy's seen me like that. We did a lot of cuddling, but there were clothes on, trust me," he says. "I'm not asking you to fuck me, or knot me, or anything like that. It'd be maybe a little more than what we did in the winter when the heating quit." 

Bucky allows himself only a moment to process this information, choosing instead to think about it later in favour of pushing his point. "It's not that simple and you know it," he says. "It's not exactly the same as having a fever or sharing body heat. You're going to be vulnerable."

"I know. But I trust you and the Commandos, Bucky," Steve says. "If we're near an SSR base, then you can all have some leave while I'm in heat. If not, it's not like I'll be unable to fight. You should know how determined I can get, Buck." 

"And you should know that I've always got your six," Bucky says, because _I'll always protect you_ sounds ridiculous. "If that's what you need, I'll stay with you."

Steve smiles, small and pleased. "Thank you. We'll see how it goes and where we're at when it hits, okay?" 

Bucky nods. "All right," he says. "Sounds good."

* * *

A week later, they're on their way back to meet with Colonel Phillips and the SSR to begin planning the attack on the next Hydra base when things go tits up. Not even half a day from the territory line, a few hours' plane ride from the base they're returning to, they're ambushed by Hydra agents. In the ensuing fight, Steve and Bucky are the worst injured, and while Steve's not concerned about himself, he's _very_ concerned about Bucky, who's lost a lot of blood. They manage to radio out for assistance and get back to base barely in time for the medics to save Bucky's life, and Steve's waiting in the tent they've been given for Bucky to wake up. 

He doesn't wake up until close to midnight, and Steve gets him a drink and some broth from a thermos before he starts. "You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" 

"What?" Bucky asks, exasperated. "Hell, Steve, I just dragged myself back from the jaws of death, give me five minutes before you start readin' me the riot act, would ya?"

Steve glares at Bucky. "No, because that's exactly why I'm yelling at you! You threw yourself in front of me! I would've been fine, but you're a lot more breakable than I am, damn it!" 

"Give me a break," Bucky sighs. "It's instinct, okay?"

If possible, Steve's glare intensifies. "Why, because I'm an _omega_?" he spits. 

"No!" Bucky cries. "Because you're my _best friend_."

"I'm also the one with the serum that makes me heal faster than anyone alive," Steve shoots back. "And you're my - " For once, the term 'best friend' doesn't seem adequate. "You're mine," Steve settles on; it feels right. 

Bucky sighs, relaxes back into his pillows. "Yeah," he says, "I know. But that's why we've got each other's backs, ain't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Steve says quietly, shifting closer to Bucky so that he can reach out and take the alpha's hand, suddenly needing that contact. 

Bucky takes it readily, and even gives it a little tug, encouraging Steve to sit on the bed. "So can we please let it go?" he asks. "I'm sorry I scared you, but I'm not sorry I did it. That's the best I can offer."

Steve does, close enough that he can feel Bucky's body heat through the thin blanket. "I guess," he says reluctantly. "I still don't like it; you don't have to protect me all the time now, you know." 

"I know that," Bucky says with confidence. "Doesn't mean I'm not gonna try still. And you know the same goes for you."

"I can take the hits better than you can, now," Steve points out, then laughs quietly as he looks down to their joined hands. "Never thought that'd happen, huh?" 

"Guess not," Bucky agrees. "Doesn't change anything, though."

Steve frowns slightly. "It changes a lot," he says, a bit confused as to what Bucky means. 

"It doesn't change how I see you," Bucky says. "How I feel about you."

Something in Bucky's expression makes Steve's heart stutter in his chest. "How you feel about me?" 

Bucky smiles softly. "Steve," he says. "You have to know you're my best guy."

Steve's breath catches in his chest; if he still had asthma, he'd be worried, but right now he's too busy staring at Bucky with wide eyes. "No, I didn't know that." 

Bucky rolls his eyes, his expression fond. "Then you're even more soft than I thought."

" _Buck,_ " Steve says breathlessly just before he follows his instincts and leans down to take Bucky's lips in a searing kiss. 

Bucky moans softly and surges up to press himself against Steve's chest, even as he winds a hand into Steve's hair to pull him closer. "Steve," he gasps when they break apart. "Steve, _yes_."

"Yes?" Steve pants, pressing himself as close to Bucky as he can while still being mindful of his injuries. 

" _Yes_ ," Bucky repeats, impatient, as he tugs on Steve's hip. "For Christ sake, get down here."

Beaming, Steve complies. 

* * *

The sex that follows is, in a word, _fantastic._ Steve rides Bucky, still mindful of his injuries, and while they do have to keep quiet, Steve's truly appreciative of just what advantages being an omega can have; namely, by the time they actually get to the part where Bucky's dick goes up Steve's ass, Steve is relaxed enough and _wet_ enough that Bucky slides in balls-deep with ease. Steve has to swallow back his moan; he'd thought sex would be good, but this is so far beyond that, he doesn't have words to describe it. 

Steve doesn't know how long they spend in bed, Steve carefully trying different things, attempting to find the best position and rhythm. Turns out, they both like it when Steve just rocks his hips while Bucky's fully buried in him, and by the time they're both nearing the edge, they're so lost in each other and the sensations washing over them that neither of them realize that Bucky's actually knotted Steve until it's too late for him to pull out. 

Vaguely, Steve's aware of the fact that he should maybe be panicking a bit, but he's too busy having the best orgasm of his life and wringing a matching one from Bucky to worry about it. Afterwards, they both end up falling asleep on their sides, Bucky still knotted inside of Steve, before they get a chance to talk about what this - the kiss, the sex, the _knotting_ \- means. 

* * *

Bucky fully expects to wake up in pain, but when he opens his eyes the next morning the only discomfort he feels is in his hip, from his leg being hitched up over Steve's for most of the night. He shifts slightly, sighs, and looks down at Steve. The omega looks absolutely beautiful, and Bucky feels a swell of possessiveness building in his chest; before he can really think about it he's easing Steve back into his arms, and of course, that's the moment Steve opens his eyes.

"Um," Bucky rasps. "Hi."

Steve blinks, a little disoriented, and then gives Bucky a sleepy smile. "Morning," he yawns, letting his head fall down against Bucky's pillow. "Any idea what time it is?" 

"Early," is all Bucky has to offer; he can barely see the glow of the sun through the walls of the tent. "How are you feeling?"

Steve shifts on the bed, frowning thoughtfully. "Little bit sore, but okay." 

Bucky frowns. "Did I hurt you?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "Sore from the stretching and exertion," he clarifies. "So, the good kind." 

Bucky smiles. "I'm glad," he says. "Last night was..."

"Unexpected?" Steve finishes. 

"Unexpected," Bucky repeats. "Yeah."

Steve has the feeling that his answer wasn't what Bucky was hoping for, but he doesn't have time to figure it out because there's a runner outside the tent telling them that Captain Phillips has requested their attendance in a meeting. "We're coming," Steve calls, pulling away from Bucky; when the runner's gone, he looks at the alpha questioningly. "We'll talk later?"

"Yeah," Bucky agrees, a little too easily. "Sure thing, pal."

Steve knows that was too easy, but unfortunately they can't keep Phillips waiting. "All right. I guess we need to get dressed and head over, see what he wants."

"Yep." Bucky rolls away from Steve and gets to his feet, makes sure to keep his back to the omega while he dresses.

* * *

The meeting turns out to be about some recent intelligence - Intelligence concerning the lead scientist for Hydra. He's traveling, they don't know where to, and honestly they don't care. The important part is, he's traveling with a minimum of guards. 

Their plan is simple, though it won't exactly be easy. Staring at the line they've just rigged that they'll have to slide down, Steve finds his stomach turning. Seeking a distraction, he glances over at Bucky, smirking at the uneasy look on the alpha's face. "Second thoughts?" 

Bucky laughs. "Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?"

Steve grins. "Yeah, and I threw up?" he answers, a teasing lilt to his tone; other than the vomiting, that had been a good day.

"This isn't payback for that, is it?" Bucky asks, grinning too.

Steve smirks. "Now why would I do that?"

"Because you're an asshole," Bucky answers, no hesitation, "and if we don't wind up like bugs on a windshield here, it'll be a damn miracle."

Steve laughs. "You're just as much of an asshole as me," he informs Bucky, but his tone is fond. "And I think we'll be okay; it's just you, me, and Jones going down after all."

But Bucky's grin is already fading fast. "Steve," he says. "If we die today--"

"We're not going to die," Steve interrupts, because he can't think about that possibility, can't think about losing Bucky now, not after everything. "We're going to get this bastard, and then we're going to finish the war, and then we'll go home."

"Together?" Bucky asks, and the hope in his voice sounds almost desperate, almost painful.

Steve's expression and tone soften, and impulsively he reaches out to lay a hand on Bucky's left shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Together," he promises.

Bucky's smile returns then, and it's no less beautiful for how soft it is. "Then let's do this."

* * *

Except they don't return home together.

They land on the train without incident, manage to make their way through one car, and then their plans are disrupted. They've been expected, and Steve and Bucky are separated; they manage to fight their way back to each other's sides, but they're only reunited for a moment.

When filling out his report later, Steve will be able to recall every detail, but in the moment all he can think is _No,_ over and over again until it echoes through his mind like Bucky's scream echoed through the ravine he fell into.

After that, the Howling Commandos mourn briefly, and then go aggressively on the offensive, cutting their way through Hydra bases with no mercy as they work their way towards the headquarters, where Schmidt awaits. They all agree that Steve deserves the chance to wring the bastard's neck himself, plans to make him face trial for his war crimes be damned. In the end, Steve doesn't catch up to Schmidt in time, and in another world, maybe Peggy would've kissed him when she pulled him in close while she and Colonel Phillips were racing to get him on the Valkyrie before it took off, but in this one, all she says is, "Make him pay."

Schmidt ends up either disintegrated or sucked into the vacuum of space, so Steve figures that counts. And when he realizes that, during their fight, the controls to the Valkyrie were fucked, and none of the doors holding the bombs will open so that Steve can drop them safely into the Arctic ocean, a strange sort of calm falls over him. 

Peggy doesn't protest his decision to fly the plane into the ocean, and she stays on the radio with him as long as she can. And when that cuts out after the impact, Steve stays in the pilot's chair until he can feel himself slowing, his thoughts turning to molasses. He has enough presence of mind to get out of the chair and lay down, but then he remembers nothing else.

At least, not until he wakes up to a radio recording of a game he saw two years before he left for the war. Steve runs, instincts screaming at him, telling him that this place isn't safe, that he needs to bolt, find somewhere that _is_ safe and hide until he can figure out what's going on, only when he emerges into sunlight, he only barely recognizes New York City. Times Square is bright, harsh, noise blaring from every direction, and he's stunned long enough to be surrounded. As the one-eyed man escorts him back to the building he'd just escaped from, he explains everything. Steve's been asleep for seventy years, the war long over. America and the Allies won, he - Nick Fury - informs Steve, largely thanks to the efforts of the Howling Commandos. If Hydra hadn't been stopped, then the war could have gone on for far longer, and the Allies' success would have been far from guaranteed.

Fury stays with Steve when they return to what Fury explains is SHIELD's New York Headquarters; SHIELD being an international organization that deals with the extraordinary, the things beyond the normal human's comprehension. Things like supersoldiers made from a serum, billionaires who fly around in mechanical suits, and Norse gods come to life, apparently. And that's only what Fury tells him as they walk to a medical suite, where an anxious-looking woman is waiting for them.

"Captain Rogers," she says, holding out her hand. "I'm Doctor Jones; I've had the pleasure of looking after you since you returned to New York. Perhaps you'd like to sit down? We have a lot to discuss."

Steve looks to Fury after shaking the doctor's hand, who nods before excusing himself. "Okay," Steve says after the beta has left. "What do we need to talk about?" 

"I'm not going to lie to you, Captain, you've been granted a miracle," Dr Jones says frankly. "Not only are you alive, you're in perfect physical health. It's absolutely remarkable. But I have a few questions."

Steve nods. "Shoot." 

"Do you remember the last time you had a heat?"

"Shortly after I first received the serum," Steve answers without hesitation. 

The doctor blinks and sits back in her chair, like that was the last thing she expected. She scribbles furiously on a notepad before looking up again. "And when did you last have penetrative sex?"

Steve's throat threatens to close up, but he's never lied to a doctor and he's not going to start now. "About two - maybe three weeks before I drove the _Valkyrie_ into the ice." 

The doctor nods, writes something else in her notes. "Well," she says, "I have reason to believe that you did have a very small heat in the weeks leading up to your flight on the Valkyrie."

Steve freezes, his thoughts grinding to a halt. The only reason he could think of would be - But he _can't_ \- "What?"

"Captain Rogers, you're pregnant."

Steve's laugh is one more of disbelief than anything else. "No, that - you must be mistaken." 

"I'm not," the doctor promises. "I could hardly believe it myself at first. But you were a few weeks along when you went into the ice - and, another miracle, the baby has survived."

Steve's not able to sort out his emotions right now, but the most prevalent one is horror. He'd accepted his own death, had all but embraced it, but in doing so, he'd almost killed his - _their_ \- child. But how could he have known, the pregnancy being so early, and him so devastated by the loss of Bucky? "You're absolutely sure?" he presses, voice choked. 

"I am," Dr Jones says with a smile. "You have a perfectly healthy baby due to be born in around eight months' time."

Steve's glad for the chair currently supporting him; without it, he's sure he'd be on his ass on the floor. One hand automatically goes to his stomach. "Oh my God," he whispers, staring through the floor. "That - Holy _shit._ " Steve doesn't usually curse, but this situation warrants it. 

The doctor frowns. "This... isn't good news," she surmises.

Steve shakes his head, but it's not exactly a refusal. "It's - unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome," he says slowly. "It's just - I lost him, but I got a baby, and I almost killed us _both_ but flying into the ice the way that I did."

"You lost who?" the doctor asks. "Do you mean your mate? Because Ms Carter mated again, but she's very much still alive, Captain Rogers. I'm sure she'd be delighted by the news."

"No, not my mate," Steve says with a humorless laugh. "Though I thought he - I lost Bucky. Sergeant Barnes." It hurts to say his name, but if there's anyone that Steve might be able to trust in this strange new world, it's a doctor.

"You-- oh." Dr Jones' eyes are wide. "I don't know how to tell you this, Captain, but the entire world assumes that Ms Carter was the alpha in your life. She certainly spoke very fondly of you afterwards."

"We were friends, and she kept me company through my first heat - without sex, I mean," Steve explains. "I loved her, but not in the way I love Bucky." Even now, he can't bring himself to use the past tense when speaking of his feelings for Bucky, because he still loves him, even if Bucky isn't here at the moment.

Dr Jones' eyes soften like she understands, even though she couldn't possibly. "Well," she says carefully, "there are some options I can talk you through, if you feel like that would be helpful."

Steve takes a moment to get himself and his emotions back under control before he looks at Dr. Jones and asks, "What kind of options?"

Dr Jones sighs. "The time that you were frozen seems to have had as little effect on the baby as it had on you; for all the intervening years, you're still as pregnant today as you were when you went into the ice. Which means that certain windows have yet to close."

Steve frowns. "Are you talking about - about terminating the pregnancy?"

"If that's what you want," Dr Jones says. "If carrying and raising Sergeant Barnes' child would be too painful."

Steve's first instinct is a vicious _No,_ but he forces himself to think about this - not only is he going to be raising a child pretty much on his own if he chooses to go through with the pregnancy, but this would be _Bucky's_ child. Steve just woke up in this new century, doesn't know a single goddamn thing about it; how can he justify having a child now?

In the end, his answer doesn't change; he shakes his head. "No, I want to do this," he says firmly. 

Dr Jones' smile returns quickly. "Then we'll be sure to support you in every way we can."

Steve offers her a grateful smile. "Thank you. Do you have any idea of what to expect? I know that the serum - changed - some things."

"It certainly did," Dr Jones agrees. "But because of the serum, we're kind of playing it by ear. I can tell you what to expect as a pregnant omega, but I couldn't hope to tell you how those expectations should be altered based on your specific circumstances."

Steve nods understandingly. "All right. What sort of things should I expect or be on the lookout for?" 

"Morning sickness, definitely. An increased appetite and an increased sex drive that should last well into your second trimester, maybe longer. Aches and pains, some bloating, decreased bladder capacity." Dr Jones smiles. "We're going to be keeping a close eye on both you and the baby, so we'll know if anything out of the ordinary happens."

Steve makes a face when Dr Jones mentions the decreased bladder capacity. "My mother always said I liked to sit right on her kidneys and kick at her bladder," he says. "I just hope that doesn't get passed along." 

"Oh, even if it doesn't, I'm sure your little one will come up with their own ways to torture you," Dr Jones says, laughing. "We're going to bring you in for another scan in the next few weeks, but have you spoken to Mr Fury about what you're going to do now?"

Steve shakes his head. "No, I haven't talked with him. I did just wake up earlier today," he answers wryly.

Dr Jones nods. "Then speak with him, and come back to me. Whatever happens I know Mr Fury will want to make sure you're both well taken care of."

* * *

Steve spends the next week in and out of SHIELD headquarters; he's been assigned temporary quarters there, and a good deal of his time is dedicated to tests, the purpose of many of them going straight over his head. Dr Jones is his primary physician, and she's pleased with the results of his tests, giving explanations to all of his questions.

It doesn't do much to help the loneliness, and when he's finally cleared for strenuous physical activity - though with an admonition to take it easy because of his pregnancy - his first stop is the gym, where he sets up a punching bag and goes to town, finally letting the memories that have been threatening to overwhelm him since he woke up free. They flash by, too quickly for him to really comprehend them, but he feels every flash of Bucky's face like a hit to his own gut. He hits the bag in front of him harder and harder, until he finally knocks it off of the hook, sending it crashing against the wall hard enough to split. Breathing heavily, Steve picks up another bag and hangs it, gripping it tightly and resting his forehead against it before starting to work it over, this time slowly and methodically instead of frantically. He's so absorbed in his workout that he doesn't even realize he's got company until said company clears its throat.

"Looks like you've got some shit to work out," Fury observes lightly. "Maybe you wanna hit something that actually deserves it?"

Steve looks at the other man with a raised eyebrow. "Something like what?" 

"I need someone to help me and some friends of mine," Fury says. "There's some bad people out there, that much hasn't changed since your day, and they need to be stopped. I think you might be the man to do it."

If possible, Steve's eyebrow climbs higher. "I'm gonna need a bit more than that if I'm going to risk _my child._ " 

"The tesseract," Fury says bluntly. "We had it. We lost it. We need to find it."

"It was stolen," Fury clarifies. "By a very powerful _god_ who can do a lot of damage with it. We need to recover it or what you experienced during the war will be a picnic in comparison."

Steve glares. "Fine," he bites out, gathering his stuff before turning to leave. "I'll help you find the damned thing - _again._ " Christ, Steve literally _just_ did this, and now they want him to do it again? 

Fury grins. "Excellent," he says. "My people will call your people. I'll leave you to... whoever it is you're hitting."

* * *

It turns out that one of the Norse gods that Fury had mentioned - Loki, the trickster god - had been responsible for the theft of the tesseract and the kidnapping and enslavement of two of SHIELD'S best men. They'd managed to track him to Stuttgart on a _flying ship_ and then Tony Stark - Howard Stark's son, and _God_ it was so weird to look at this man who was so like Howard and yet not him - had shown up in a mechanical suit blasting something that was more noise than music, and they'd captured Loki. Then there'd been Tony and Thor's - because the god of thunder was real, too, apparently, and _nothing_ was ever going to surprise Steve again - pissing contest in the middle of the woods that Steve had solved. And now they were all back on the helicarrier, Tony strutting around like some tuxedo'ed peacock, blathering on about some science thing that went above Steve's head. _Bucky was always the science geek,_ floats unbidden through Steve's mind, and in an effort to distract himself from the memories of the conventions and shows that Bucky had dragged him to, he interrupts Stark's posturing to ask, "Loki's smart, we all know that; he gave up too easily. Thor, you know him best, do you have any idea what his plan might be?"

The Asgardian nods, expression somber. "We were able to determine that he has struck a deal with the Chitauri - they will provide him an army with which to win the Earth, in return for the tesseract." 

"Well isn't that just fantastic," Stark drawls. "Now we have _two_ disasters to avert."

Natasha shoots Tony an irritated look. "They're still the same disaster," she points out. "Now we just have more motivation." 

"Well I for one was already pretty motivated," Stark bitches. "So what do we do now?"

"Same thing we have been doing," Steve guesses. "Keep Loki contained, find the tesseract, and stop whatever he's got planned." 

Stark nods. "Then I guess we'd better get cracking."

* * *

Tony and Bruce head off to study Loki's scepter, and Steve leaves to explore the helicarrier. He finds himself in a nearly-abandoned hallway, and after a quick glance around to make sure he's alone, he breaks into the locked room at the end. What he finds there makes him see red in a way he hasn't since 1943, when he found out that Bucky had been captured. 

He returns to Bruce and Tony's commandeered lab to find them arguing with Fury. Tony mentions a 'phase two' and Steve takes a shot in the dark. "Phase two is when SHIELD uses the tesseract to make weapons. Sorry, the computers were moving a bit slow for me," he adds, glancing at Tony. 

Tony looks only vaguely irritated, and he waves Steve's apology away. "It's whatever," he says. "Can we please talk more about Phase Two? Can you please tell me he's _wrong?_ "

"I thought SHIELD wanted to _neutralise_ the tesseract, not use it for their own ends," Bruce adds. "Do you even understand it enough to use it?"

"By using technology you can't even begin to understand?" Bruce demands. "It won't be _aliens_ that end the human race, it'll be you!"

"And what about those people that Loki killed?" Fury demands. "How many of them would still be alive if they'd had the technology to defend themselves?"

"Of course it would be better if those people hadn't been hurt," Bruce snaps, "but that doesn't mean you should go meddling in something you don't know how to control! We all know what happens when people mess with things above their pay grade!"

Things devolve from there, everyone shouting at everyone else, and even Steve gets dragged into it, although he keeps an eye on Bruce. When the alpha's skin starts looking a little green, Steve separates himself and steps towards Bruce, hoping that maybe the scent of pregnant omega will help calm him down - or at least make him think a bit more; it went against most alphas' instincts to harm an omega, much less a pregnant one. "Dr Banner, maybe you should think about stepping back," he says, as calmly and gently as he can manage.

But before Bruce can respond, Tony jumps down Steve's throat. "Why can't the man blow off a little steam?"

Steve shoots Tony an irritated look. "You know damn well why," he snaps at the beta. "Back off."

Tony smirks, arrogant. "You think you can make me?"

Steve turns to fully face Tony, expression hard. "Yeah. I think I can; you're just some jerk with a suit if armor. Take that away, what are you?"

Stark doesn't miss a beat. "Billionaire playboy philanthropist."

"I know guys with none of that worth ten of you," Steve growls. 

"What, like the guy you let knock you up and then dropped off the side of a train?" To his credit, Stark seems to regret the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

Steve goes very still. "I'm going to give you one chance to take that back," he says, voice quiet.

Tony actually takes a step back, his hands raised. "All right," he says, "all right. That was my bad. Don't provoke the pregnant omega or mention his dead mate. Got it."

Steve actually goes so far as to bare his teeth at Tony, but before he can says anything, an explosion rocks the helicarrier. A glance outside reveals smoke from one of the four engines, and Steve turns back to Tony. "Put on the suit," he orders, already on his way to the origin of the explosion. 

* * *

The explosion turns out to have been caused by a brainwashed Clint, working to free Loki. From there, things are a blur of unpleasant revelations, fighting, barely planning, and more fighting, until Natasha's standing on top of the Stark Tower closing the wormhole that the Chitauri had been using to invade as Tony flies a nuclear warhead into it. Afterwards, Steve doesn't remember much besides getting shwarma and then passing out in one of Tony's innumerable guest rooms for a solid sixteen hours. Dr Jones is there when he wakes up, giving him a worried expression and scolding him - "Fighting off an alien invasion isn't exactly taking it easy, Steve." (Her unimpressed look is pretty impressive) - before examining him carefully. Thankfully, he didn't take any injuries to his abdomen, and Steve doesn't need Dr Jones's orders to decide to take it easy for the rest of his pregnancy. He's decided to keep their baby, and he's not going to put her - no matter what Dr Jones says about it being too early to tell, Steve just _knows_ the life growing inside of him is a girl - in any more danger.

Tony helps that plan along rather nicely; Steve doesn't know how, but apparently they all bonded while fighting aliens from the other side of the universe, and now Tony's decided that they're all moving into the Tower. Steve doesn't put up too much of a fight, eager to get out of SHIELD's headquarters, and the rest of the team - except for Thor, who returns to Asgard with Loki in tow - follows suit. It's a bit difficult to fall into a rhythm, but eventually Steve manages it - until he gets cornered by Natasha, Tony, Clint, Bruce, and even _Pepper_ , who is carrying a tablet with the screen split to show a running video conference with both Dr Jones and Director Fury. Steve scowls at them where they're blocking his way to the gym. "What are you all doing?" he asks suspiciously.

"Relax, Steve," Dr Jones says soothingly. "We're not here to gang up on you; just to talk."

"Think of it like an intervention," Tony says cheerfully, and Dr Jones shoots him a scathing look.

"No," she says. "Don't. You're not doing anything wrong, Steve. We just want to talk to you."

"That's still not exactly comforting, considering how many of you are here," Steve says dryly. 

"We just want to help," Natasha says. "We're worried about you, and the baby."

That earns a frown. "What do you mean?"

"We know you've been taking it easy," Bruce says, "and you've been working really hard to keep the baby healthy and safe."

"But what happens when the world needs saving again, Steve?" Natasha asks.

Steve shrugs. "I'll wait on the sidelines?" he guesses. 

"Yeah," Tony drawls, "that'll happen. People start dying and you expect us to believe that you'll just sit there and watch?"

Steve glares at Tony. "I do realize that this - " he gestures to his stomach " - isn't exactly aiding my agility at the moment. But that doesn't mean I won't try to help in _some_ way."

"And that's where you're wrong," Tony says smugly.

Steve looks at the gathered people with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean?" he asks suspiciously. 

"You've been taken off active duty," Natasha says, not unkindly.

"Meaning that it would officially be against the rules for you to do _anything_ except sit there and bake your lovely bun," Tony adds. "We could probably throw you in jail if you tried. Could we throw him in jail?"

"We've got a few undisclosed but very secure locations that could be comandeered," Fury muses. 

"Ha ha," Steve says with an eyeroll. "Are you all serious?"

"Deadly," Pepper says, and she actually looks apologetic.

Steve looks at the others incredulously, but none of them contradict Pepper; Natasha doesn't even look apologetic. Steve sighs. "This isn't going to be an argument I can win, is it?" he asks rhetorically. 

Tony grins. "Nope."

"We're just trying to do what's best, Steve," Dr Jones adds. "For you and the baby."

Steve shakes his head, but he's also got a half-smile on his face as he does so. "I know you are," he says, because he does - they've all made it clear how they consider him a very good friend, and that they're ready to do whatever he needs to make sure that he's comfortable. The least he can do is not worry them unneccesarily. "All right. But _if_ things get bad enough, I'm going to help."

"It will be up for discussion," Natasha says. "That's our best offer."

Steve shakes his head, smiling. "Alright, fine; you've got a deal. Now can I please get into the gym? I do need to stay in shape."

"Light exercise!" Dr Jones insists, smiling. "Remember what we talked about."

"Are you going to assign me a babysitter if I don't?" Steve asks, regretting the words the moment they're out of his mouth. 

Tony points at him, his eyes wide. "Don't tempt us," he warns. "That's actually not a bad idea."

Steve stares at Tony and says, very seriously, "Whoever follows me in gets to take the place of my punching bag."

Natasha actually laughs. "We're not going to strap you down," she says. "Just take it easy, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve sighs, giving them all a reassuring smile. "I'll behave."

* * *

Steve goes into labor on a Tuesday; he's walking - pacing, to be more accurate - around his floor of the Tower, plagued by cramps,when Jarvis alerts him to a visitor. He opens the door, only to feel as though someone poked a pin between his legs and released the pressure that's been building in his lower abdomen for the better part of the says. A split second later, warnth soaks his pants, and he looks up to meet Tony's shocked expression. "I think that may have been my water breaking," Steve says carefully. 

"What?" Tony asks, his eyes almost comically wide. "I'm sorry, _what?_ "

"Jarvis, please alert Dr Jones that I've gone into labor," Steve says, ignoring Tony for the moment. 

"She's on her way, sir," Jarvis says helpfully. "ETA twenty minutes."

"You're in labour," Tony says. "Holy shit, you're in labour. Nat? Nat!"

Natasha appears from -somewhere, Steve's not sure where, because something just gripped him around the waist and _squeezed,_ hard enough to leave him gasping and with tears in his eyes. "Oh God, someone help me to the couch," he begs, instincts turning him towards Natasha, the closest alpha and the one he is also closest to emotionally. 

Natasha grabs Steve's hand and wraps an arm around his shoulders, guides him over to the sofa with surprising tenderness. "Well?" she snaps at Tony. "Do something!"

"Right! Yes!" But Tony doesn't move. "Like what?"

"Quit hovering, maybe?" Steven snipes, though the effect is rather ruined by the fact that he's still breathless from the contraction a moment before. "Get things together for Dr Jones, let everyone else know what's going on, you're the genius, not me!"

"I'm a genius but I'm not a _doctor!_ " Tony squeaks. "Jarvis! Inform everyone of great importance that Captain America is about to drop a kid, and find out what _things_ Dr Jones is going to need when she gets here!"

"Ignore him," Natasha suggests, rubbing soothing circles into Steve's lower back. "Just focus on your breathing."

Steve huffs, but does as Natasha suggests, leaning into her touch and seeking comfort from it. "God I hope this kid doesn't take her time," he groans. 

"You're gonna be okay," Natasha murmurs, glaring over Steve's head at Tony, who seems to be in the process of frantically procuring towels, hot water, and _forceps?_ "The doctor will be here soon, and she'll bring the good stuff."

Steve laughs, then chokes on it when the next contraction hits. He reaches out desperately and grabs Natasha's free hand, squeezing hard. "God, I hope she finds something that works," Steve gasps. "You know most painkillers don't work on me."

Natasha winces and finally looks away from Tony. "I was hoping you'd forgotten."

"Forgotten?" Steve demands, voice little more than a hiss. "I am about to push a tiny human _out of my body,_ there's no way I'd forget that _painkillers don't work on me!_ "

"All right," Natasha soothes. "All right. But Dr Jones knows that, too. She'll have thought of something."

Steve huffs, settling; he still grumbles under his breath, and every time a contraction hits, he sqieezes Natasha's hand almost hard enough to break bone. "Please tell me Dr Jones is almost here," he begs. 

"ETA ten minutes, sir," Jarvis supplies, and then adds, a little apologetically, "She's stuck in traffic."

Steven barely bites back the urge to scream. 

"Stark," Natasha snaps. " _Do something_."

.

Tony grins. "Now this is something I _can_ do."

Tony disappears, and neither of them can begin to guess at what he does but three minutes later, miraculously, a harried-looking Dr Jones walks through the door.

Nearly an hour after that, Steve is screaming, squeezing Natasha's hand almost to breaking point, and Dr Jones is kneeling between legs, peering interestedly at whatever is happening down there.

"What's happening down there?" Tony asks.

"Come see for yourself," Dr Jones says, and she's beaming as she looks up at Steve. "You're crowning; I can see the head!"

"You can?" Tony is there in a flash, and while Bruce is crooning encouragements to Steve and Natasha is stroking his hair, Tony's eyes go comically wide, his face a deep purple. "Oh my god," he breathes. "That's-- that's a--"

Natasha doesn't even look up when he hits the floor. "Well, he lasted longer than I thought he would."

Steve laughs, a bit hysterically. "At least he'll be quiet," he gets out before the next contraction hits, ripping a scream from him. His heart rate picks up even more, and even Natasha and Bruce's combined presence isnt enough anymore to soothe his worried omega instincts. For the first time since this ordeal started, tears manage to fall, and Steve chokes out one word, one name: " _Bucky._ "

Natasha shares a look with Bruce that conveys all of her surprise and pain without moving a single muscle in her face. "Shh," she breathes, ducking to kiss Steve's hair. "It's okay."

Steve whines, high and pitiful in the back of his throat, and tosses his head; for once, Natasha's touch isn't soothing. "No, it isn't," he whimpers. "I need - he needs to be here, I need him, Bucky - "

"He's here," Natasha soothes. "He's always with you, Steve, he's right here, he loves you so much." She's completely improvising, but that doesn't mean what she's saying isn't true.

Steve's entered that part of childbirth where he's not really all there mentally, too overwhelmed by the stress and pain of what's going on to really understand anything else except for the urge to push. He doesn't contradict Natasha, doesn't even really hear her, but the words still soothe him, even though he knows they're not true, not in the present tense - Bucky was always there, and maybe he did love Steve, but they never got to find out. "I want him here," he sobs, chest tight in a way it hasn't been since the winter before Bucky left for Europe.

"I know," Natasha murmurs, "I know. But you're about to meet his baby - you just gotta keep going, Steve, you're nearly there."

Steve sobs again as another contraction hits; he barely hears Dr Jones telling him to push, already following his instincts which are telling him the same thing. Things blur together after that, but eventually Steve hears the instantly-recognizable cries of a newborn, and he struggles to sit up, arms held out. "Give her to me," he demands desperately. "I gotta - I gotta see her, give her to me, _please._ "

Dr Jones delays the reunion of father and child only long enough to wrap the baby in a blanket, and then she's easing the bundle into Steve's arms, beaming through shining eyes. "You were right," she says. "You and Bucky have a daughter."

Steve's got yet more tears in his eyes as he cradles his daughter to his chest, soothing her with quiet murmurs until her indignant screaming quiets into sniffles, and the moment he looks into those blue-grey eyes that are so like Bucky's, he's smitten. "Hi there, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice rough from exhaustion and his screaming. "Oh, you're beautiful, aren't you?"

"She is," Bruce agrees, sounding quite choked up himself. "So beautiful."

She's also now squinting around suspiciously, at least until Steve reaches up to stroke one careful finger down her cheek. "Sarah," he says softly. "Sarah Winifred."

"After your mom?" Natasha asks.

"Mine and his," Steve confirms without looking away from his daughter. "Sarah was my mother, and Winifred was his."

Natasha smiles. "It's perfect," she offers.

From somewhere on the floor, Tony's head pops up, his eyes wild. "Did I miss it?"

* * *

The next few months are hectic; honestly, Steve doesn't know how he would have made it through if he hadn't had the support of his friends. Winnie is mild-tempered for the most part, which Steve praises as a blessing and is also wary of; Bucky had been the same way for the first year of his life, and then the toddler years had - according to his mother - been hell. Even with a well-behaved infant, however, there's a lot of stuff to learn that prenatal classes just can't teach you. 

Steve likes to think he's doing a good job, but more and more often he finds himself panicking about what if he's _not?_ What if he's ruining his daughter, setting her up to fail later in life by something he's doing or not doing that he doesn't know any better about? It's during one of these late-night freakouts that Tony finds Steve; the omega is sitting up by Winnie's crib, his daughter sleeping peacefully. Steve's honestly lost track of time, so he has no idea how late it is when Tony raps his knuckles against the doorframe. He jumps, though he manages to avoid knocking into the crib. "Oh, Tony - hi," he says, a bit sheepish. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Tony answers with a shrug. "Just thought I'd see how you were doing. Jarvis mentioned you haven't been sleeping."

Steve laughs quietly. "No, I haven't," he admits. 

"I normally wouldn't do this," Tony says like it's a warning, "but Pepper's away this week and everyone else keeps normal hours. Mostly. So, with that in mind, do you want to talk about it?"

Steve glances up at Tony, expression questioning. "Talk about what?"

"Whatever's eating you."

Steve sighs. "I just - what if I'm fucking everything up?"

"In general, or something specific?" Tony asks.

"I worry that I'm doing this all wrong," Steve admits quietly. "I'm only twenty-seven, despite the years in the ice. What do I know about raising a kid? And I know I've got the team, that you all are more than willing to help, but that... I don't want to sound ungrateful, but it's not the same as having a mate, and I worry how that's going to affect her later in life, too."

Tony nods. "I know it's not the same, what with us not being an alpha/omega pair, but I can't imagine losing Pepper, what that would feel like," he offers. "But you did have Barnes, even if it was shortlived, and Nat was right when she said that he's still with you. Y'know, in your heart and the morning sun and your baby's smile or whatever. She's gonna grow up knowing that he loves her, that he would've given her _and_ you the world if he could."

Steve shakes his head. "Bucky and I weren't mates."

Tony frowns. "Once again," he says, "I may not have any personal experience in the matter, but I think I can say with a fair amount of confidence that you were."

Steve shakes his head again. "He didn't court me, and we had sex once, but - that's not enough to make us mates."

"He knotted you while you were in heat," Tony says. " _That_ does."

Steve looks away, throat working. "I didn't - I never let myself think about that," he confesses. "Bucky never acted like being with me was something he'd thought about, and we never got a chance to talk after we - "

Tony just shrugs. "Well, maybe I'm wrong," he says. "But maybe you were just too stupid in love to dare see whatever gestures he was making for what they actually were, just in case you were wrong."

Steve blinks; he hadn't thought about it like that - but then again, he'd tried to avoid thinking about Bucky as much as possible since he woke up. He takes the time now, though, and the more he thinks about it, the more the yawning hole in his chest widens. "I didn't - I didn't think. I didn't know."

Tony seems to realise something, and his eyes widen a fraction. "Oh dear," he says. "This is why I shouldn't be allowed to do this. I shouldn't have said anything, should I?"

Steve laughs, but it's wet. "No, you - you're fine, Tony. Someone would have said something eventually, and it would've been just as much a surprise."

Tony makes a face like he's in pain. "I'm sorry," he says, "that it's hard. But at least this way you know for sure that he did care about you, and that Winnie was created out of love or whatever and not just some random fuck because you were the only omega around for the love of _God_ make me stop talking."

Steve laughs again, a little more genuinely this time. "I already knew it wasn't that," he says, smiling as he looks at Winnie. "We never would've done anything if the idiot hadn't basically jumped in front of a bullet and made me mad at him."

"Angry sex?"

"Not really," Steve admits. "This is gonna make me sound like even more of an idiot, but - he called me his best guy. That was basically a declaration of love back then."

Tony smiles at that. "Then take comfort from the fact that you got to share that with your _mate_ , and that he left you with the most beautiful gift he could," he says. "You're a great dad, and Bucky would be proud of you. We all are. So get some fucking sleep."

"I'm not, though," Steve protests. "I'm not a great dad, I'm probably gonna mess everything up - "

"Stop," Tony says, holding a hand up. "Stop right there. Bullshit. That little girl is the happiest baby I've ever seen. And I haven't seen many babies but none of them have ever been as happy and good as that baby. You're doing great. And it's actually pretty difficult to fuck up a newborn without actively dropping it several times; at least save this crisis until she's walking."

"But what if I'm a bad parent then?" Steve persists, because once he's worrying about something he can't _not_ worry about it. 

"Then we'll knock you back into shape," Tony promises. "We've got your back, Cap. And we're all ridiculously besotted with your daughter."

Steve chuckles, looking up at Tony with a half-smile on his face. "Why are you being so nice about this? I expected more sarcasm."

Tony shrugs. "Because I know what a bad father looks like," he says. "And you're not it."

Steve's eyes widen. "You mean -"

"Yeah," Tony says. "Sorry. I know you were a big fan."

Steve shakes his head. "No, I know people change, but I never would've thought that Howard would be a bad father."

"He probably would've been a great father," Tony says. "If I'd presented as anything but a beta."

Steve stares at Tony, because that sentence doesn't make sense; maybe he's just sleep-deprived, but... "Howard never struck me as that much of an asshole," he says dumbly.

"Yeah," Tony says, "well. I was never good enough for him, and he blamed all of my shortcomings on the fact that I wasn't an alpha like he was."

"Well that was a dick move," Steve says, frowning. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Tony says, waving his hand. "What I'm trying to say is, I can already tell that you're going to love your kid no matter what, and that is _all_ that matters."

Steve smiles, looking back at Winnie, who's sleeping on her back, limbs spread like a skydiver's. "Thanks," he replies. "I really appreciate that, Tony."

Tony smiles back. "So go to bed, huh? You're turning the rest of us grey."

Steve laughs. "I'll try," he promises.

* * *

Almost two years to the day after they saved the world from Loki and his army of Chitauri, when Winnie is almost a year and a half old, Steve and Nat get called in by SHIELD. Steve's been back on-call for a while now, has run a couple of short and easy missions, but this one promises to be a bit more involved: One of SHIELD's own ships has been taken by pirates. "Great," Steve mutters to himself as he reads through the brief summary in the communal kitchen, absently feeding Winnie some applesauce, though he keeps one eye on her to make sure that she doesn't suck it down the wrong pipe. "We're gonna be gone for at least a week, I think."

"Probably," Natasha agrees from her perch on top of a counter. "You okay with that?"

"Not really," Steve admits. "But Bruce and Tony will be here, and Jarvis, so I don't really have any excuse to not go."

Natasha nods. "I think SHIELD have been looking for an excuse to get you back into action," she admits. "But I'll fight them for you, if you want."

Steve shakes his head. "No, I need to get back out there sometime," he sighs. "As long as they're not asking for me to leave on week-long missions all the time, then it's fine for now."

Natasha smiles. "I'll let them know," she says, and hops down off the counter, passing a hand over Winnie's soft head as she passes. "She'll be fine."

Steve chuckles. "I know she will; but I'm her parent, it's my job to worry about her."

Natasha reaches up to do the same to Steve. "I know," she says. "I'll see you on the flight."

Steve leans into the touch, smiling slightly. "Yeah, I'll see you there," he says. He's got some things to take care of, but they shouldn't take too long. 

* * *

Steve's not entirely happy with how the mission turns out; first Natasha misses the rendezvous point, then Steve finds her downloading all of SHIELD's data from the _Lumerian Star_ , and then Batroc gets away - again, because apparently Natasha had a different mission from his. Steve isn't dumb enough to think it was Natasha's idea to keep her mission a secret from him, and so he goes straight to the source: Nick Fury, sitting pretty in his office at the top of the Triskelion in Washington, D.C. That talk - and Fury's little presentation - don't go over well, and Steve leaves to blow off some steam. He goes jogging around the Washington Memorial, and meets Sam Wilson there; he follows the fellow veteran to the VA, sitting in on a meeting. It's not like he's got anything else to do, and besides, he likes Sam. He's one of the few omegas that Steve's met since emerging from the ice, and Steve thinks that maybe they could be good friends. He could use another omega; alphas and betas just don't get some of the issues that omegas face.

Steve eventually meets up with Natasha later that evening at the apartment that SHIELD is loaning them, only to stop her just outside the door. "It's unlocked," he murmurs, eyeing the door warily; beyond it, he can just hear the faint strains of music as well. Instinctively, Steve reaches for his shield, cursing quietly when he remembers that it's sitting just inside the front door of the apartment, deposited there before he'd gone on his jog.

Natasha is already armed, gun in hand, and she gestures for Steve to stand back. She opens the door without a sound, which is a small miracle considering how badly it squeaks on a normal day, and follows the music into the apartment. A moment later, she swears violently in Russian, and calls, "Steve. Get in here."

Steve's right on her heels, shield in hand, but the sight that awaits in the small living room is enough to bring him up short. "Damn," he swears. "Does that feel as bad as it looks?"

Fury, his dark skin made even darker by the myriad of bruises mottling his face and arms, treats Steve to an unimpressed look as he stands up, turning the phone in his hand to show the screen to Steve and Natasha. "My wife kicked me out; I didn't have anywhere else to go. I'm hoping I can count on you two as my friends." On the phone, the beta has helpfully provided a translation. _SHIELD compromised; assassination attempt failed. Ears everywhere._

Natasha glances sidelong at Steve. "Of course," she says slowly. "This the kind of thing that'll blow over in a few days?"

"I hope so," Fury answers, typing something on his phone. _Investigation interrupted._

"Well," Steve starts, but he doesn't get any further before there's three muffled shots, and matching holes appear in the wall behind him and in Fury's chest. 

"Steve, down!" Natasha yells unneccesarily, her gun already drawn again as she flattens herself against the wall and peers in the direction the shooting came from. "Fuck! Is he alive?"

Steve glances at Fury, who holds a hand out, something clenched in it; the omega bends down, taking what turns out to be the flash drive that Natasha had copied the files from the _Lumerian Star_ onto. Fury manages to gasp out one last piece of advice - "Don't trust anyone" - and Steve turns to Nat. "Call for backup, tell them I'm in pursuit of the shooter," he orders, and then he's out the window, flinging himself across the alleyway to the next building over, where he'd seen the shooter on the roof. He barrels through the building, bouncing off of walls and damn near knocking every door he bursts through off of its hinges, and eventually he catches up to the shooter; without pausing, Steve whips the shield at his head, grunting slightly with the effort.

But the shooter doesn't even so much as flinch; he just reaches out with one hand and _catches it_ , raises his head to stare at Steve with cold, unyielding eyes. Then he launches the shield back at him.

p>Steve only barely manages to keep the shield from knocking him on his ass, stunned by the realization that the shooter had had a _metal arm._ "Shit," he swears once hes got his balance back,darting to the edge of the roof; it's no use, however.

He's gone.

* * *

The next twenty-four hours are a blur; Steve and Nat manage to trace the flash drive's origin, find out that Hydra still exists, that it's been growing _inside SHIELD_ all this time, and then they're attacked by one of SHIELD's missiles. They return to DC, seeking refuge at Sam's place; the omega grants it readily, and Steve loves him a little just for that. They come up with a plan to kidnap and interrogate Jasper Sitwell, and Sam proves his worth in that mission. They're on their way to the Triskelion when something lands on the roof of Sam's car, and Natasha proceeds to save both Steve and Sam from bullets to the faces. The car is wrecked, the three of them falling out of it onto the freeway, and then Steve sees the shooter from the night before - only briefly, before he launches a grenade at him. Steve brings his shield up, but it does nothing to prevent him from being blown off of the freeway. His focus goes fuzzy for a few minutes, but when his head clears again, he follows the sound of gunfire and screaming, finding Natasha wounded and trapped, Fury's assassin ready to finish her off. Steve doesn't hesitate before throwing himself into the fight, senses going into overdrive to take in all of the information. There's something - some scent - that keeps bothering him, but Steve ignores it in favor of the slightly more important task of _not dying._

At least until he flips the assassin over his shoulder, ripping the muzzle off as he does so. When they face each other once more, Steve's almost shocked enough to drop his shield, his mouth falling open in a surprised 'o.' "Bucky?" he asks, barely breathes, too worried that he's hallucinating, that maybe he fell off of the freeway harder than he thought, or maybe he's bleeding out onto the pavement now, because that can't be Bucky, Bucky's body is laing somewhere in a ravine in the Alps, he can't possibly be standing in front of Steve now, in Washington D.C., sixty-seven years after falling from a Hydra train.

The man in question just stares at him, confusion in his eyes, and asks, "Who the hell is Bucky?" There's a tremor in the hand holding his gun that wasn't there before.

Steve would answer if he could, but he's too busy trying not to choke on his emotions; he can't even protest when Sam appears, knocking Bucky off to the side somewhere, just before the STRIKE team shows up as well, forcing Steve and Sam to their knees, handcuffing them and Natasha before bundling them into a van. Steve's still numb, still reeling from the shock, and he doesn't even realize he's interrupting Sam as he whispers, "He didn't even know me."

Sam looks sharply at Steve. "You sure it was him?"

Steve laughs, but it's wet, choked. "Yeah; there's no way, I - I'd know him anywhere."

Sam lets out a low whistle. "Damn," he says. "Nat. Do you--?"

Natasha shakes her head, but says, "He fits the profile of the Winter Soldier - a ghost story credited with over two dozen assassinations in the past fifty years. If that really is Barnes..." She glances apologetically at Steve, who just shakes his head numbly.

"It's him," he insists. "I know it is." The same way he'd known that Bucky was still alive the first time he'd been captured by Hydra, the same way he'd known that their child would be a girl. He _knew._

"Well," Sam says, bracing. "Maybe we should deal with that _after_ we get out of this alive."

"Which is where I come in," one of the guards says; before the three captives can react, the guard's knocked out their companion and removed their helmet, revealing Agent Hill. "I'm here to take you to meet someone," she says. "We've got a plan to stop this."

Sam grins. "Excellent!"

* * *

Hill takes them to Fury, who - it turns out - faked his death. Natasha looks like she wants to slap him, and Steve doesn't blame her; she restrains herself, however, in favor of focusing on the mission at hand: Stopping Hydra. This time, instead of assaulting a base in the Alps, Steve and the others are going to be assaulting the three helicarriers used for Project Insight, replacing Hydra's targeting chips with their own in order to make the helicarriers destroy each other.

Steve receives a call from Tony, asking if he and Natasha need him and Bruce to come down, but Steve turns him down, asking him to stay with Winnie. Tony's not exactly happy about leaving Steve and Natasha to deal with this on their own, but he accepts it, promising that he and Bruce will protect Steve's daughter with their lives. Steve may or may not get a little choked up at that, but then it's time for him to suit up; he chooses his old uniform, the one that he had worn during the war before Bucky fell, and after one last pep talk from Natasha and Sam, they set off.

It's not until Steve's made it to the technological control center of the last helicarrier that he sees Bucky again. Steve's heart breaks all over, taking in his - his _mate's _, Jesus, long, greasy hair, the uniform that looks more like something a patient in a mental hospital should wear, and the horribly empty gaze that Steve never wants to see again. "Buck," he says, a bit desperately. "Bucky, please - a lot of people are going to die if you try to stop me. I can't let that happen, but I don't want to fight you. Don't make me fight you, _please._ "__

____

But Bucky doesn't even acknowledge that he's heard; he just points a gun at Steve, and fires.

Steve dodges, shield coming up to deflect the bullet, and no matter how much he doesn't want to, he charges. His objective is to knock Bucky out of the way, to buy himself enough time to swap out the targeting cards, but he has no idea how successful he'll be.

p>Successful enough, as it happens; he manages to flip Bucky over the railing(he'll feel guilty about the painful-sounding thud that was his mate's landing later) and swap out the chips before Bucky gets a good enough angle on him to take another shot. He gets off two in quick succession, one through Steve's calf and the other through his abdomen, making him trip and fall over the same railing he'd just flipped Bucky over. Poetic, Steve supposes in the hysterical corner of his mind that's trying to focus on something other than the blood working its way out of his body with every beat of his heart - every _increasing_ beat, because Bucky's on him now, fists and knife flying as Steve tries desperately to keep his balance while Hill screams at him through the comm to get off of the helicarrier because they're destroying themselves now. Steve ignores her; he's not going to leave Bucky behind now, not after miraculously finding him. Even if this doesn't seem to be Steve's alpha, his mate, but rather some wild beast wearing his skin.

" _Buck,_ " Steve pleads, desperate as he and Bucky trade blows. "Bucky, please, _stop_ , this isn't you!"

" _Shut up!_ " Bucky roars. "You're my _mission_."

"And you're my mate!" Steve screams back, because dignity be damned, he doesn't care who hears him now. "You're my _mate,_ Bucky, you're - you're _mine!_ "

Bucky is about to land another punishing punch to Steve's face, but he freezes with his fist in the air. "What?" he spits, before a look of absolute _agony_ twists his expression. " _Steve?_ "

There's something almost like recognition in Bucky's eyes, but Steve doesn't dare move closer just yet. "Yeah," he says, knowing his own expression is painfully open, painfully hopeful. "Yeah, Bucky, it's me - it's Steve."

Bucky takes a ragged, wheezing breath, and drops his fist to his side. "What?" he asks again. "I don't-- I don't understand."

Steve wishes he could explain, but right now they're kind of sitting in a crashing helicarrier. "I can help you understand," he promises desperately. "But you need to come with me; if we stay here, we'll die. We need to leave, Buck."

Bucky frowns, apparently completely unaware of their surroundings, and drops his gaze to the deep red stains on Steve's suit. "You're hurt," he says.

If, when Steve laughs, it's a bit hysterical, he doesn't think anyone would blame him. "Yeah, I am - but we can take care of that once we get out of here."

Bucky looks confused, conflicted, and scared out of his mind - but he's only ever had one setting when it comes to Steve being hurt, and it seems that brainwashing aside, that hasn't changed. He reaches out to Steve with his flesh hand, his gun long forgotten on the floor. "Come on."

Steve takes his hand.

* * *

They barely manage to make it out of there before the helicarriers go crashing into the Potomac, and then Bucky all but drags Steve to the nearest hospital - not that Steve's complaining. Natasha and Agent Hill manage to secure a whole floor just for them, and then they show up in person after Steve's been hooked up to the rewuisite machines. "Hey," he says, a bit weakly as Natasha, Sam, and Hill make their way into the hospital room. "Glad to see everyone else survived."

"Yeah," Natasha says slowly, her eyes on Bucky. He hasn't spoken a word since they got to the hospital and he screamed at the nearest doctors to help Steve, but nor has he let go of Steve's hand; currently, he's sitting in the chair at Steve's bedside and staring at the floor, completely still save for the odd twitch that runs through his entire body. "All present and accounted for."

Steve doesn't miss Natasha's look, and he gives Bucky's hand a slight squeeze. "This is Bucky Barnes, my mate," he says. "I think he's gonna stick around for a while."

"Yeah?" Sam asks, grinning. "That's great. It's nice to meet you, Bucky. Can I call you Bucky?"

But Bucky doesn't look up.

Steve shoots Sam an apologetic look. "It's gonna take a while to get things back on track," he explains. "Natasha, Maria, can you two help find any intelligence on the Winter Soldier?"

"We'll do what we can," Hill says, but Natasha just narrows her eyes.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" she asks.

"No," Steve answers honestly. "But I'm not leaving him, not again."

"He's not safe to be around," Natasha says. "He could hurt y--"

Bucky's head jerks up so fast it's a wonder he doesn't break his neck. "No," he snarls. " _No_."

Steve tightens his hold on Bucky's hand. "It's all right, she's my friend, she's just worried about me," he says quietly. To Natasha, he adds, "I don't think he will; as soon as he realized who I was on the helicarrier, he stopped."

"And what if he forgets again?" Natasha demands, ignoring Bucky's glare. "Steve, he's not going to become the man you knew overnight. He's been the Winter Soldier for a lot longer than he's been your mate."

"I know that," Steve insists. "You think I don't? But I can handle myself, Natasha, if it comes down to it."

Natasha doesn't so much as blink. "Could you kill him, if it came down to it?"

Everything in Steve recoils from the thought. " _No,_ " he says vehemently. "But I won't need to - I was thinking of asking Tony if he could come to the Tower. There's no more secure building in the States."

"No way," Natasha snaps. "He can _not_ go to the Tower, Steve, think about what you're _saying_."

"Why not?" Steve demands. 

"Come on, Steve," Natasha says, impatient. "I know what he means to you, but if you love _her_ at all, you'll think again."

"Tony's got those bodyguard suits, as well as Jarvis watching the whole Tower," Steve argues, hand tightening around Bucky's instinctively. "She's safer there than anywhere else, even if Bucky is in the same goddamn room as her."

Natasha sneers. "He shouldn't even be in the same _state_ as her right now."

"Do you know anywhere more secure for him?" Steven demands. "The Tower is her home, I'm not moving her, and I'm not letting Bucky out of my sight again."

"All right, all right," Sam says, when Natasha opens her mouth to answer again and Bucky looks about ready to twist her head off her shoulders. "Why don't you guys come stay with me for a few days? Just to get your shit together."

Steve glances at Bucky. "What do you think?" he asks quietly. "We can trust Sam, if you want to take him up on that offer."

Bucky glares at Natasha for a moment longer before turning to meet Steve's gaze. "I don't want to hurt you again," he says quietly.

Steve manages to muster up a smile. "I know. Maybe we could stay with Sam while talking to Tony?"

Bucky hesitates, but at last he nods, his hair falling into his eyes and making him look shy, vulnerable.

Sam grins. "Then that's settled."

"Good," Steve says, smiling. "I should be released soon, so if you want to hang around, we can all head over to your place, Sam."

"Will do," Sam says cheerfully.

Natasha sighs. "People are going to come after him," she says. "Whether it's Hydra or the government or just regular townstolk with pitchforks. So I'm gonna go try to delay that."

Steven nods, expression grim. "Thank you," he says, refraining from pointing out that that is another reason to take Bucky to the Tower: to protect him from the world as well as the other way around. 

"I'll see you later," Natasha says. "Get some rest."

Sam moves to follow her from the room. "I'll, uhh, be outside. Let me know when you need me."

"We will," Steve promises; once they're all gone, he hesitates for a moment before tentatively reaching over with his free hand to cover Bucky's where he's still holding onto Steve. "Are you okay with this?" he asks quietly. "Staying with me and my friends?"

"I'm not leaving you," Bucky rasps. His gaze returned to the floor as soon as the others left the room, and he doesn't look up now, but he does tighten his hold on Steve's hand a fraction. "I don't know much, but I know that I can't-- I can't--"

"Hey," Steve says soothingly, reaching for Bucky's shoulder this time, hand careful as it comes to rest there, "I'm not going to ask you to leave, and I'm not letting anyone take you away, not if I can help it, okay?"

Bucky looks unsure, but he nods. "I trust you."

Steve smiles. "Thank you," he says. "I won't let you down."

* * *

The only problem with staying with Sam for a few days, they come to find out, is that he only has one spare bedroom, and his couch should be serving as an interrogation device in a government torture chamber somewhere. Steve looks at Bucky for a moment before he hesitantly suggests, "I could sleep on the floor? I think Sam has an air mattress."

Bucky frowns and looks away. "You should... the bed," he says. "I'll take the floor."

"You've just gotten away from Hydra, and I don't think they were keeping you in five star hotels," Steve says, not unkindly. "You should take the bed."

"Steve," Bucky growls, the first time he's spoken above a whisper when they're alone. "You were _shot_."

"I heal fast," Steve counters. "You've been in Hydra's hands for _decades._ "

But Bucky's expression doesn't change. "Get on the bed, Rogers, before I put you there."

Steve raises one eyebrow in challenge. "I'll just get right back up."

Bucky's expression pinches, and it's clear that he struggles with his next words. "I can't-- I can't _sleep_ on that," he says. "I haven't in... decades."

Steve's own expression softens. "Okay," he says, trying another tactic. "Where do you want to sleep?"

"The floor," Bucky says. "The floor is best."

"Okay," Steve says, thinking. "Do you want any blankets or anything?"

Bucky shakes his head. "The cold is... better."

Steve does and doesn't want to know the reason behind that. "All right. Do you want something to lay on?"

"I'm fine," Bucky says. "Look after yourself."

Steve shakes his head, carefully stepping forward to take Bucky's hand in his. "I want to look after you, too," he says quietly. "You're not alone anymore, Bucky."

Bucky pulls away, turns his back on Steve. "I'm always alone," he says.

Steve doesn't go after him, even though he wants to. "You aren't, though," he says softly. "Not anymore. If you need anything, just come find me, okay?" Without really waiting for an answer, Steve heads out of the bedroom. 

* * *

"So," Sam says, four days later while he watches Steve eating breakfast after yet another restless night. Bucky is still asleep; he doesn't normally surface until after noon, unless he has a nightmare. "He's still giving you the cold shoulder?"

Steve sighs. "Yeah," he admits. "I mean, it makes sense - his instincts recognize me, I guess, because of the whole mate thing, but he doesn't have any memories of me. I don't think, anyway."

"Have you actually asked him?"

"Haven't had a chance to," Steve answers. "Not without cornering him, and I don't want to do that."

"Yeah," Sam agrees, "cornering him probably isn't a good idea. We don't know what'll set him off."

"I want him to feel safe," Steve says. "I also want him to trust me, but I'm not so stupid as to think either of those will happen overnight."

"I think he does trust you," Sam muses. "He's here, isn't he? He hasn't tried to kill either of us yet. But I don't think he knows what that means."

Steve smiles slightly. "Not trying to kill us is good," he agrees. "I'm still trying to really believe he's alive."

"How does it feel?" Sam asks. "I mean, you guys are still mates, right?"

"I guess?" Steve hedges. "You're talking to the guy who didn't realize he was mated until a year after the fact." It'd been a lot longer than that, but to Steve it had only felt like a year. 

Sam sighs, thinking. "If Hydra had forced him to break the bond, I think you'd be able to feel it," he says. "And if it had faded over time, you'd be able to feel that, too. Does he feel any different now than he did the last time you were together?"

"The last time we were together he was taking a swan dive off of a moving train," Steve says dryly. "But to speak seriously, no, I don't think so?"

"Then that will help," Sam says. "I'm not saying you guys have to ride off into the sunset or even that that's an option, but the bond is there. It'll help you to reconnect with him."

Steve sighs. "I hope you're right."

"Just give him some time," Sam says. "Try talking to him in a way that isn't cornering him, and if you can't, let him come to you. He will."

Steve sighs. “I hope you’re right.”

* * *

Bucky's awake when Steve goes back into the bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the floor like he's been meditating or something. "Hey," he says. "How... did you sleep?"

Steve's startled by the question, but he smiles nonetheless. "Okay," he admits. "I'll sleep better when we get back to the Tower, though." If it was possible, Steve was sure he'd be going through Winnie withdrawals; he missed his daughter, and wanted to introduce her to Bucky as soon as possible. 

Bucky's face darkens, and he gets to his feet. "You should go," he says. "Without me."

Steve blinks, eyes widening as he takes in the expression on Bucky's face. "What? Why?"

"There's people you care about there," Bucky says. "You should be with them."

p>"I care about you, too," Steve points out.

"Yeah," Bucky says, "but they're probably not brainwashed deadly assassins who can't be trusted around anything sharper than a spoon."

"They're not," Steve admits. "But that doesn't mean that I have to abandon you for them. I'm not leaving you behind again."

"Then at least take a night off," Bucky argues. "Go and see them. Put Sam on babysitting duty; he could probably take me."

Steve kind of doubts that Sam could if Bucky were to fall back into the Winter Soldier, but he doesn't say that. "We've almost got everything sorted for you to come with me," is what he says instead. "I can wait another couple days."

Bucky huffs, glowers. "You always were a stubborn asshole."

Steve grins. "Still am."

Bucky almost smiles back. "Tell me something I don't know."

* * *

The next day is quiet, which should have been Steve's first clue that something was about to go wrong; that night, Bucky wakes Steve with his choked-off whimpers. Steve had been dozing more than he'd been sleeping, so he's on his feet almost as soon as he registers his alpha's distress, and he moves without thinking to Bucky's side, kneeling next to him. "Bucky," he says quietly, carefully reaching out to give his flesh shoulder a gentle shake. "Bucky, wake up - it's just a dream, you're with me, you're safe."

Bucky wakes up almost instantly, but he doesn't lash out or panic; he just goes rigid, perfectly still in a way that has to _hurt_ , he's holding himself so taut. He murmurs something in Russian, then huffs under his breath and whispers, "Steve?"

"I'm here," Steve says, letting his hand rest on Bucky's shoulder in a way he hopes is comforting. "I'm right here."

Bucky sits up then, and runs his hand angrily through his hair. "Fuck," he says, "I'm sorry. I didn't-- I didn't mean to wake you."

Steve smiles gently. "It's all right; I wasn't that asleep anyway. You okay?"

"I don't know," Bucky says, and he sounds frustrated. "I feel-- I feel like..."

Steve shifts so he's sitting beside Bucky instead of kneeling over him. "It's all right," he says. "Take your time."

But Bucky just turns abruptly and buries his face in Steve's chest, his flesh hand fisted in Steve's shirt while his metal one stays clenched at his side. "I need you," he rasps urgently, more honest than he's been since they got here. "God, Steve, please."

Steve's breath catches in his chest, and he wraps his arms around Bucky, holding the alpha close. "I'm here," he murmurs. "Just tell me what you need, Buck."

"You smell wrong," Bucky groans, his head on Steve's shoulder now, his breath hot against Steve's neck. " _I_ smell wrong, I need--"

"Hey, easy," Steve soothes, rearranging them so that they're both laying on the floor, wrapped up in each other. "I'm here, you can make me smell right, okay? And I'll make you smell right, too."

That seems to be all the invitation Bucky needs to start scenting the hell out of Steve, rubbing his face all over him and even pushing his hand up beneath Steve's shirt so he can feel skin. "Mate," he mumbles every now and then, a barely-audible whisper. "Mine."

Steve returns the treatment, sliding his own hand up under the hem of Bucky's shirt to rest against the small of his back as he shifts onto his side so he can pull Bucky even closer. "Yours," he agrees, voice just as quiet. "And you're mine."

They fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other without a thought for anything else.

When Steve wakes up, he's alone.

* * *

Bucky reappears around ten o'clock in the morning, and is immediately met by a frantic Steve and a strangely calm Sam. "Hey man," Sam says carefully. "Are you all right? You know you're not supposed to go walkabout right now. We were worried."

Bucky just shrugs and makes to walk past them both. "I'm fine. I wasn't seen."

"Where'd you go?" Steve asks, still fidgeting; he'd felt off ever since waking up without Bucky beside him, and now there's something in Bucky's posture that worries him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Bucky repeats. "I just needed some air."

And, well, Steve knows a dismissal when he hears one. It hurts, but Steve makes himself swallow the hurt back. "All right. Just - let us know if you're gonna go off again, all right?"

Bucky's already halfway into the spare bedroom, and he raises a hand behind himself in acknowledgment before shutting the door behind him. Half a second later, there's the snick of the lock.

* * *

Bucky stays quiet and distant for the rest of that day and the next; Steve ends up sharing Sam's bed when the door remains locked that evening. The next day, though, they head up to the Tower in one of Stark's private jets, and Steve keeps a worried eye on Bucky the whole way. He keeps his distance, though, unwilling to push when Bucky's in such an uncertain mood. Their arrival at the Tower is largely uneventful, and Jarvis directs them to Tony's lab first. "Sir wishes to take a few scans of Sergeant Barnes's arm," the AI explains. 

"Thanks, Jarvis," Steve says as they step into the elevator. "You okay with that?" he adds, looking at Bucky.

Bucky doesn't return his gaze. "Just lead the way."

Steve just sighs and asks for Jarvis to take them down.

Tony's obviously delighted to see them. "Hey!" he cries. "If it isn't my favourite dynamic duo! Capsicle and... Bucksicle?" He waves a hand. "Never mind, I'll work on that later. How's it going? Did you have a good flight? What am I saying, of course you had a good flight. Did you come straight down here? Cap, you can't forget about your little lady!"

Steve laughs. "No, I haven't, but it's almost six, Tony," he points out. "She's probably still napping before dinner."

"She does like her naps," Tony agrees. "But I bet she'd love it if you were there when she woke up! Why don't you go on upstairs? Robocop and I have got everything under control down here, don't we?"

Bucky, who has been staring at Steve ever since Tony opened his mouth, starts guiltily and looks away. "Yeah," he says. "You go."

Steve hesitates, looking at Bucky with concern clear in his eyes. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, his smirk not quite reaching his eyes. "He can probably take me."

Tony himself probably couldn't, but he was surrounded by his helper robots(though how much help they were on any given day changed), Jarvis, and several older model suits that still worked. It would be more than enough if the need arose. "All right," Steve concedes, still reluctant. "Don't keep him too long, Tony."

"Of course not," Tony says. "I'll send him right up as soon as I'm done."

"All right," Steve says, finally giving in. "Be nice to him, Stark."

Tony just gives him a little salute, and reaches for Bucky's arm before Steve's even left the room.

* * *

Steve returns to his floor just before Winnie wakes from her nap; as soon as he's close enough, he's scooping his daughter into his arms, burying his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. He's missed her so much these past weeks, more than he would have thought possible, and he takes several moments just to bask in the feel of having her in his arms before finally giving in to her demands for dinner.

He makes everything one-handed, unwilling to let Winnie go just yet, and breaks tradition just this once to feed her on his lap, alternating between coaxing her into eating some mashed peas and feeding himself. Tony must have meant it when he said only some scans, however, because they've only just finished dinner, Steve washing Winnie's face and hands by the kitchen sink, when Jarvis announces that Bucky's coming up in the elevator. When the door slides open, Steve calls from around the corner of the kitchen, "Come on in, Bucky; we're just getting washed up."

Steve hears Bucky take a few steps into the room before he stops abruptly, probably being hit by all the new scents. "I," he begins, "I can come back later."

"No, come in," Steve insists before turning his attention back to his daughter. "Winnie, love - no, I don't need the soap, thank you though." He takes the soap dispenser from the baby, who makes an indignant noise at having her toy taken away.

There's an audible huff from the other room, a pause, and then footsteps - which halt abruptly once more when they reach the kitchen. "Steven Grant Rogers," Bucky rasps, " _please_ tell me that baby isn't yours."

Steve glances over his shoulder at Bucky, frowning slightly. "Why wouldn't she be?" he asks defensively. 

"Because if I find out that you abandoned your _child_ to babysit _me_ , I'm going to kick your ass."

"Our child," Steve corrects automatically, "and I didn't abandon her; she had her Uncle Tony and Uncle Bruce to watch over her. He doesn't look like it, but Tony's actually really good with her."

All colour has drained from Bucky's face, and he looks like he's about to break into a cold sweat. "What do you mean, 'our child'?"

Steve curses himself, but doesn't answer until he's finished wiping Winnie's face off. "I mean just that," he says, picking up their daughter and settling her onto his hip as he turns to face Bucky. "We mated about a week before you fell in the Alps, and I went into the ice a couple of weeks after that. I didn't know I was pregnant until after I woke up in a new century."

Bucky's eyes widen, and all the defensiveness melts right out of his posture as he stumbles forward a few steps, stopping just out of Steve's reach, a safe distance away. "She's mine?" he breathes. "She's _ours?_ "

Steve and Winnie both regard Bucky carefully, Winnie's expression more curious and Steve's a bit sad. "Yeah," he says, taking a step forward, just enough so that Bucky could reach out and touch his daughter if he wanted to, "she's ours."

"Oh," Bucky breathes, and it sounds like a sob. "She's _beautiful_."

"Isn't she?" Steve agrees, unable to help smiling as he glances down to Winnie, whose attention has been caught by Bucky's metal arm, staring at it curiously. "Her name is Winnie - Sarah Winifred."

"Our moms," Bucky says softly, still watching Winnie with the most tender expression on his face. "Can I--" He glances up at Steve. "Please, can I hold her?"

Steve smiles, stepping forward. "Of course you can," he says. "Just be careful, she squirms sometimes when someone new holds her."

"That's okay," Bucky says, taking Winnie from Steve with the utmost care and settling her on his hip, his right arm supporting her so that she can look at his left hand. "I got her. Don't I? I got you, sweetheart." He jiggles her a little and Winnie squeals and claps her hands.

Steve steps closer, unable to help himself as he takes in the way Bucky carefully holds his left hand out for Winnie to play with. Something finally settles in Steve at the sight, and he doesn't resist the urge to reach out and lay a hand at the small of Bucky's back. "Already got you wrapped around her little finger, huh?"

"Seems that way," Bucky says, and it's clear he doesn't mind at all. "She's perfect, Steve, I can't believe that we..."

"We did," Steve confirms. "She's ours, Bucky."

Bucky sucks in a wet breath and looks up at Steve while Winnie starts to suckle on his pointer finger. "I thought," he says, and then swallows hard and tries again. "When the others were saying that it wasn't safe for me to be around _her_ , I thought that meant... there was someone else."

Steve smiles softly. "No, there hasn't been anyone else," he says. "Never really was before we mated either."

Bucky nods, but his attention is back on Winnie now; she's got one hand fisted in Bucky's long hair, and he only seems to be endeared by the fact that she keeps tugging on it. "So why Winnie?" he asks.

Steve shrugs. "She never looked very much like a Sarah, and Winifred was a mouthful," he explains with a smile. "She's about a year and a half old."

Bucky smiles. "She's beautiful," he says again. "I-- I know I'm twenty kinds of screwed up and I'm right at the top of the entire world's Most Wanted list, but. I want to be in her life."

"You can be," Steve promises. "You've had enough taken from you - I'm not going to take her away, too."

Bucky's eyes shine with unshed tears, the first time that Steve's seen him even close to crying since before he fell. "Thank you."

Steve takes a chance, wrapping his arm around Bucky's waist, pulling him and their daughter closer. "You're her father; there's very little you could do to convince me to keep her away from you."

Bucky sighs softly and drops his head onto Steve's shoulder with a smile. "Let's hope we won't have to find out."

* * *

Natasha comes to Steve's floor an hour later, and she doesn't seem particularly happy to see Bucky playing with Winnie on the floor, Bucky amusedly allowing Winnie to reposition his hands for a new version of patty cake. Steve can all but ready the condemnation in her eyes, and he sighs, pulling her into the kitchen. "All right, spit it out."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Natasha demands.

"I'm sure he won't hurt her," Steve answers. "Look at them; he loves her already."

"He shouldn't even be here," Natasha complains. "He's been back for five minutes, Tony's had a little tinker with his arm for thirty seconds and that's it. No psych eval, no stressor tests, no evidence that the slightest thing won't set him off and turn him into a killing machine again. And you're letting him roll around on the floor with your infant child."

"I'm right here," Steve points out. "I've been keeping an eye on him; he couldn't do anything to her without me seeing it; we're going to get started on the rest of that stuff tomorrow, but he deserves to know his daughter, Nat."

"I don't know that he does," Natasha says. "I know that nothing that's happened is his fault, but it doesn't change that it happened."

"No, it doesn't - but I feel like I can trust him, at least for tonight," Steve says. "You trust me, don't you?"

Natasha's mouth twists downwards. "Of course I do," she says. "But I'm not sure you're thinking clearly."

And, well, Steve has to give her that. "Maybe not," he concedes, "but if it makes you feel any better, you can stay for the rest of the night. And I promise we'll be more careful when we start all of the evaluations."

Natasha frowns, considering, but at last she nods. "Yeah," she says. "I think I'll do that."

* * *

Steve and Natasha keep an eye on Bucky for the rest of the evening, and everything goes amazingly well. Still, once Winnie has been taken to bed and Bucky is starting to get antsy again, Steve and Natasha sit him down for a talk. Steve does most of the actual talking, explains as gently as he can that Bucky can't be allowed much access to Winnie until they know that she'll be safe. Bucky saw it coming, of course, and he ducks his head like he's ashamed of himself, mumbles into his chest that he can go, if that's what Steve needs.

He looks so relieved when Steve explains that that's not what he needs at all; Bucky can stay in the Tower, in the guest quarters where he can be monitored only by Jarvis, and if he consents to being evaluated by only the most trusted and professional doctors, then they can work towards giving him a bit more freedom - including the freedom to see his daughter. Bucky agrees so fast the words tumble past his lips, slurring together in their haste to get out, and Natasha actually smiles. She may not trust Bucky, but it's clear that she respects his commitment.

So Bucky winds up living several floors below Steve, not technically imprisoned but also not technically permitted to leave without accompaniment. He opts not to go anywhere except to his appointments, which officially started today. Natasha came to pick him up and she dropped him off again after, but didn't hang around; Bucky is alone for just enough time that he starts to feel antsy when there's a knock on his door. It's Steve, of course.

"Well don't just stand there," he grouses, some of the old Brooklyn seeping into his voice. "Get inside, you're letting all the heat out."

"It's not like the climate control won't make more," Steve points out as he enters Bucky's apartments; he sounds amused, though there's an edge of tension running beneath his words.

Bucky sighs. "Go on," he says. "Ask already."

"How did it go?" Steve asks - blurts, really. Sue him, this is important; if this goes well, it would mean his mate would get to spend more time with their daughter - and, in a roundabout way, with him as well.

"I hate it," Bucky says bluntly. "I think that means it went well."

Steve laughs. "I hated it the first several times, too," he reassures Bucky. "They put me through some similar things, testing my state of mind after waking up from the ice."

The look on Bucky's face tells Steve that all he's achieved in saying that is reminding Bucky of just what Steve's state of mind was like _before_ the ice. Bucky blinks the thoughts away quickly and tries for a crooked smile. "Well, it can't be as bad as tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Steve asks curiously, trying to move them past his tactless stumble.

"Physical," Bucky answers with a grimace. "More people to poke and prod at me and God only knows what else."

Steve winces in sympathy. "They'll probably make you run on a treadmill for a while, and probably test the strength of your left arm."

"That's fine," Bucky says. "If they come anywhere near my head, though, I'm gonna flip."

Steve nods in understanding. "You can let whoever works with you know; they'll respect that."

"We'll see," Bucky says darkly - but then he takes a breath and makes himself smile. "How's Winnie today?"

"She's doing good," Steve says with a smile. "Starting to learn some new words, though it'll be a while before we can understand her the way she wants us to."

"She's a smart girl," Bucky says fondly. "Just like her dad."

"Just like both of her dads," Steve agrees. "Though I'm hoping she doesn't inherit my reckless tendencies."

Bucky laughs, then. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, me too."

Steve grins. "So how do you like the Tower?" he asks, genuinely curious if a little awkwardly-delivered since he can't think of anything else to say. 

"It's, uhh." Bucky's laugh is a little awkward, too. "It's a lot. But it's great, it's good to be so close to... everyone."

"Everyone?" Steve prompts curiously. 

"You and Winnie, obviously," Bucky says, "but, y'know, it's also good to be around people who could put me down."

Steve's face shows what he thinks of that thought. "They're not going to put you down - not permanently, anyway."

"They'll do it more readily than you will," Bucky says, "if it comes down to it."

"They'll do it more readily than you will," Bucky says, "if it comes down to it."

Bucky smiles a little, self-deprecating smile. "We don't know that," he says. "And you need to be able to think clearly, for Winnie."

"There is nothing you could do that would make us kill you," Steve says quietly, almost pained. 

Bucky's smile turns sad. "Okay, Stevie."

* * *

Things stay in limbo for the next week or so; even Winnie seems to pick up on her father's distraction. She's unusually quiet the whole week whenever Steve is around, and that only serves to make the omega feel guilty. One day, however, Jarvis informs Steve that Bucky is on his way up to Steve's floor. By the time he arrives, Steve's waiting by the door. "Is everything okay?" he demands. 

"Yeah," Bucky says, with a shy smile. "Can I come in? Is Winnie here?"

"Yeah, come in; she should be waking up from her nap anytime now," Steve says, stepping out of the way. 

Bucky grins. "I thought so," he says smugly. "I, uhh, I just got back from seeing my therapist."

"Yeah?" Steve asks hopefully. 

Bucky grins. "She said that I'm all kinds of fucked up," he says, "but that I'm not a danger to you or Winnie."

Steve laughs. "I'm sure she didn't actually call you fucked up, but that's good, that you can see Winnie."

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Bucky says. "I don't want to overstep my boundaries."

"You're not," Steve reassures Bucky. "You're more than welcome to spend time with Winnie."

Bucky beams. "Great," he says. "Then, maybe I could wait for her to wake up?"

"Of course," Steve says. "Come on; I was just watching some _American Pickers._ "

"I have no idea what that is," Bucky says, laughing, "but let's do it."

"It's a show about these two guys who go around buying crap that's older than we are," Steve explains before asking Jarvis to resume his show. "They're pretty funny, and they find some cool stuff."

Bucky's hooked after the first thirty seconds.

They manage to watch for a good half hour before Winnie wakes up. Jarvis kindly informs them seconds before a distressed whimper crackles over the baby monitor, followed closely by a plaintive call for Daddy. Bucky smiles. "Sounds like you're wanted," he says.

Steve returns the smile as Jarvis pauses the television. "I'll bring her out," he promises before disappearing back into Winnie's room. There's a distinctive odor in the air, and Steve deftly changes her diaper - snickering quietly to himself at the thought of Bucky doing this - before hoisting his daughter onto his hip. "Look who came to see you," he says, smiling, as they re-enter the living room. "It's Papa."

"Hi girl," Bucky coos, taking Winnie from Steve when she starts making grabby hands for him. "I missed you. Did you have a good nap?" Winnie gurgles and shoves one of Bucky's metal fingers into her mouth.

Steve laughs, coming up beside Bucky to run a hand over Winnie's hair. "She'll tucker herself out by bedtime, thankfully."

Bucky just nods, holds Winnie close for a cuddle. "She smells like us," he says quietly, looking up at Steve with a smile.

Steve's chinks pinken. "I, uh - may have gotten Nat to swipe one of your shirts. It's in her crib, on one of her pillows."

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, grinning, while Winnie pushes her forehead against his chest. He cradles the back of her head gently, and she makes a soft, contented sound. "She knows me, huh?"

Steve nodd. "You're alive, and you're here," he says quietly. "She deserves to know you, and you her."

Bucky's smile wavers a little and he ducks his head to press a kiss to Winnie's crown. "I hope so."

* * *

Bucky spends plenty of time with Steve and Winnie over the next few weeks, and also with his therapist. It seems like the sessions are helping a lot; he's far less jumpy around the others now, and it looks like he's actually getting some sleep at night instead of spending the whole time tossing and turning or screaming himself awake from nightmares. Not that Steve or anyone else has ever heard that; the Tower is almost perfectly soundproof, but Jarvis keeps him updated.

Bucky often visits after therapy, sometimes to talk over the session with Steve but most often to hang out and play with Winnie, but it's clear when Steve opens the door to him on this particular afternoon that they won't simply be spending it quietly with their daughter. "Did you have sex with Peggy Carter?" he asks, and his tone isn't accusing; he's just curious.

Steve just raises an eyebrow. "That's a bit out of left field, but no, I didn't," he says as he lets Bucky in. "What made you ask?"

"I remembered you rescuing me in Azzano," Bucky says. "You were all big and you'd presented, and you said Peggy helped you through your heat."

"She did," Steve admits. "But it was more of the 'staying in the same room and providing support' help than 'fucking my brains out' help. She just kept me company, basically let me use her for the alpha pheromones to help shorten the heat and keep me more lucid during it."

Bucky nods, apparently pleased with this explanation. "Whatever happened to her, anyway?" he asks. "I always thought you'd marry her if--" He cuts himself off, frowning.

Steve shakes his head. "I never loved her like that, and she didn't love me like that either. Even if I hadn't flown the _Valkyrie_ into the ice, we wouldn't have been anything more than friends." _Not with how I felt about you._

Something in Bucky's eyes loosens, and his smile comes a little easier than it might have done a moment earlier. "Well," he says, "I guess that's my question answered. Where's Winnie?"

"Playing with her stuffed animals on the living room floor," Steve answers with a smile of his own. "She'll be excited to see you." Bucky was easily Winnie's second-favorite person, and some days Steve thinks maybe he even beats out Steve for the number one spot. 

"Well I'm definitely excited to see her," Bucky says, already moving. "Are you joining us?"

"Of course," Steve laughs. "Like I'd pass on spending time with two of my favorite people."

Bucky smiles this pleased little smile and ducks his head, turning away from Steve to hide what Steve is sure is a blush. Steve doesn't mention it, however, just nudges Bucky's shoulder with his and smiles as he leads the way into the living room. He settles on the floor next to their daughter, and bends over to press a kiss to Winnie's head. "Hi sweetheart; look who came to visit."

Winnie looks up, gives Bucky the biggest smile, and squeals, "Pa!"

Bucky _melts_. "That's right," he says, sitting down so that he can lift her into his lap. "That's right, clever girl! I'm your Pa."

Steve beams along with Winnie, who starts chanting Bucky's name excitedly. There may be a tear or two in his eyes as he says, "I never thought she'd get to say that to you."

"Well, she'll get to say it a hundred times over," Bucky says, looking at Steve seriously over Winnie's head. "I'm not leaving either of you again."

Steve's smile is soft and pleased. "Good."

* * *

The next time Bucky comes over after therapy, Jarvis lets him in instead of Steve. Steve hears the AI telling Bucky cheerfully that he can find Steve and Winnie in the living room, and then Bucky's shuffling footsteps as he approaches, before they stop suddenly in the doorway and there's a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh," Bucky says. "I didn't realise I was interrupting."

Steve cracks one eye open from where his head is pillowed on Nat's thigh to squint at Bucky. "You're not interrupting anything," he says, with a smile that's more like a grimace. "How'd therapy go?"

"Good," Bucky says, quick enough that it's clear he didn't even think about his answer. "Is it okay for me to..?" He gestures to Winnie, playing on the floor.

Steve waves a hand. "Go ahead," he says, and his smile is more genuine this time. 

Bucky gets down on his knees and says hello to Winnie, who seems pleased to see him but ultimately uninterested in engaging with him for longer than thirty seconds for the moment. He sits back, smiling, and returns his gaze to Steve - or, specifically, to the fingers Natasha is now carding through his hair. The smile quickly slips off his face. "Are you okay?" he asks Steve.

"Just a migraine," Steve answers. "Get them sometimes. Was worse when I was pregnant with Winnie."

Bucky frowns, absently passes Winnie her toy car when it rolls into his leg but doesn't look away from Steve. "Do you need anything?"

"Nah, I'm good," Steve answers even as he preens inwardly over the concern his mate is showing him. "Thanks, though."

"Don't worry your floppy head, Barnes," Natasha says warmly. "I got him covered."

A muscle in Bucky's jaw ticks. "I can see that."

Steve tries to give Bucky a reassuring smile. "It's all right, Bucky."

Bucky doesn't say anything, just turns back to his daughter when she asks him to play, but the tense lines of his back don't relax the whole time Natasha is touching Steve.

When Nat finally has to leave - even over text, she can _feel_ the effects of Clint's pouting, and she can only put up with the beta's whining for so long - Bucky has retreated to the kitchen. Steve's actually fallen asleep on the couch, Winnie clambering up to curl on his chest and join him in the dreamscape, and Nat wants to confirm a suspicion. "Hey, Barnes," she calls from the doorway. "Just wanted to let you know I'm heading out."

"Yeah, okay," Bucky says, not looking up from the dishes he's drying. "See ya."

"Make sure you take care of Steve," Nat says, idly glancing at her phone while watching Bucky from the corner of her eye. "He gets pouty when he has headaches."

"I know that," Bucky says, almost snaps.

"Yeah? Guess maybe he isn't that different from before the war," Natasha muses. 

"Except that I thought he didn't get sick anymore," Bucky says, and he puts the plate he's holding down before it cracks in his hands. "I thought--"

"He can't get sick," Natasha agrees, "but headaches aren't always because someone's sick."

Bucky concedes that point with a grunt and snatches up the next plate. "Is there anything else you needed?"

"Yeah, I need you two to quit hesitating to touch each other," Natasha answers with a cheerfulness that belies her seriousness. "You're mates, act like it."

Bucky spins to look at her, only barely manages not to drop the plate in his hands. "What."

Natasha shrugs, affecting an air of nonchalance. "You barely touch the way friends do," she points out. 

"We're friends," Bucky says, firm, like it's the only thing he does know. "We don't need to..."

"You're also mates," Natasha says gently. "But you don't act like it - and that's okay, we don't expect you to after all that's happened. But you two barely touch each other at all, and I doubt it's doing either of you any good."

Bucky frowns. "Steve hasn't said anything," he says. "He's fine."

"Steve's a self-sacrificing moron," the other alpha says bluntly. "Can you honestly tell me you don't _want_ to touch him more?"

Now Bucky's scowling. "He doesn't need _me_ to touch him," he spits. "He has other alphas around him better qualified for that shit."

Natasha isn't impressed by Bucky's attitude, and she lets him know it. "Yeah, he's got _friends_ who touch him - but it's not the same when you're mated, and you damn well know it. Look, I'm not telling you to go over there and lay on him or anything. I'm asking you to consider touching him more, just casually at least, for both of your sakes."

Bucky takes a deep, calming breath, and lets it out slowly. "Thank you for your advice," he says stiffly. "Are you done?"

Natasha's expression softens. "Yeah, I'm done," she says. "We just want you to be happy, you know. All three of you, including Winnie."

"That's all I care about, too," Bucky says. "Steve and Winnie, they-- They deserve the world."

"So do you," Natasha says with a slight smile. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I deserve something," he says. "You should go, before Winnie wakes up and makes us all watch _Frozen_ again."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Nat laughs. "But fine, I'm going. Think about what I said, okay?"

"I will," Bucky promises. "I'll see you later."

Natasha nods, satisfied, and sees herself out.

* * *

When Steve wakes up, Winnie is a heavy weight on his chest, and he can feel a bruise forming on his collarbone from where her elbow is digging in, but he ignores it; it'll heal quickly enough. It takes Steve's brain a moment to get back online, and he groans in relief when he realizes that the migraine has passed. He can hear movement in the kitchen, and he picks his head up to call, "Buck? You still here?"

"Yeah," Bucky calls back, coming back into the room with a dish towel in his hands and a soft smile on his lips. "Hey. I was just finishing up dinner. Good nap?"

"Got rid of the headache," Steve says with a smile. "How you doing?"

"I'm good." Bucky nods towards Winnie. "I hope that hasn't screwed with her routine; I just couldn't bring myself to disturb you."

"Nah, she just might stay up a half hour longer or so," Steve says. "You said you made dinner?"

"Nothing fancy," Bucky says, "but it's just about ready if you want to set the table?"

"Yeah," Steve says, then gives Winnie a gentle shake. "C'mon, baby girl, up and at 'em," he says softly, smiling when she grumbles a protest but grudgingly opens her eyes. "That's it, sweetheart. C'mon, Pa made dinner."

Winnie blinks and gives a sleepy smile. "Pa," she says.

"Yep!" Bucky says brightly - but then he falters. "She can eat pasta, right?"

Steve nods. "We just need to cut it up into small pieces and make sure she doesn't eat too fast."

Bucky grins. "I can handle that. Let's go."

Dinner is nice, even if Steve is a bit distracted by the thoughtful looks Bucky keeps sending his way; after Winnie's done eating and she's gone back into the living room to play, Steve decides to ask, "So, what's with the odd looks?"

"Nothing," Bucky says, a little too quickly, "it's nothing." He pauses. "Nat had some things to say to me before she left."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "What kind of things?"

"She thinks I'm not touching you enough," is the answer. "Am I?"

Steve freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth; he puts it down slowly, and then frowns. "I - Well, I figured you weren't comfortable touching anyone," he says.

Bucky sighs. "That's not an answer."

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his chair for a moment before he admits, "I'd... I'd like it if you touched me more." His voice is quiet, shy.

"All right," Bucky agrees, like it's the easiest thing in the world. "Then I will."

Steve blinks, looking at Bucky with wide eyes. "You will?"

"Yeah," Bucky says. "If that's what you want."

"It is," Steve admits; he hesitates for a moment, then asks, "Is it what _you_ want?"

Bucky smiles. "Sure it is."

"You sure?" Steve presses, unable to just take Bucky's words at face value; he wants Bucky to be comfortable touching and being touched. "I'm going to want to touch you, too, you know."

"That's fine," Bucky says. "I'm not made of glass, Rogers."

Steve searches Bucky's gaze for another moment, but then he slowly smiles. "Okay then," he says, glancing back down at his food, still smiling.

* * *

They do start touching more, casually at first but with increasing intimacy; where once they were careful not to let their shoulders brush if they passed in the hall, now their hands linger if they pass each other something, and Bucky's flesh fingers find themselves buried in Steve's hair on more than one occasion. Once they start it's like a dam has been broken, until it's almost impossible to stop. But they still feel like they're dancing around something, pushing the invisible boundaries they've set up for themselves without ever really meaning to but never finding the courage to break them. It means that all of their interactions are charged with something neither of them can name, and it's not awkward - yet - but they both know that something has to give. Soon.

"Went down like a dream," Bucky says smugly as he returns to the living room one night, Winnie sound asleep in her crib. He doesn't normally stay long enough to put her to bed, so they were expecting something dramatic, but she's been as good as gold. "You want a drink or anything?"

"Please," Steve says with a laugh. "God, she was energetic today."

Bucky returns with two beers, because it just feels right even though neither of them can really get drunk anymore, and flops down on the sofa next to Steve. "Tell me about it," he says. "But at least that means she went to sleep easy." He cracks his own beer open and takes a sip, and then adds, "I'll get out of your hair after this."

"You don't have to," Steve protests, shifting closer to Bucky on the sofa. "I like having you around."

Bucky smiles. "As long as I'm not keeping you up."

Steve snorts, taking a sip of his drink. "It's not that late," he points out, though he's smiling. 

"Thought you were an old man these days," Bucky shoots back. "Aren't you supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps?"

"You're just as old," Steve retorts. "But if you want to share the bed, be my guest."

Bucky laughs, but the sound is high and awkward. "I'm, uhh. I'm good, but thanks."

Steve frowns, and it takes him a moment to connect the dots between what he said and Bucky's reaction. When he does, he blushes furiously, but says, "I mean it. You don't have to go back to your own floor."

"Yeah, Stevie, I do," Bucky says, surprisingly gentle. "It-- I went onto my own floor for a reason."

"Yeah? What reason? Nightmares?" Steve asks, not looking at Bucky, focusing instead on the glass in his hand. "You're not the only one who gets those."

"Because it's dangerous," Bucky says, a sharp edge to the words. He's not looking at Steve now. "Maybe the shrinks have decided I'm not going to go on a murderous rampage, but it's still not smart for me to be around too much, for Winnie's sake."

Steve snorts. "That's bullshit and you know it. Did you know every room in this whole damned tower has defensive weaponry? Tony's just as protective of Winnie as you, me, or Nat, and he's programmed Jarvis to make her his first priority in any situation. Hell, Tony's even been talking about making an Iron Man suit specifically to protect Winnie and be the world's most indestructible babysitter."

Bucky looks down at his hands. "That's not what I meant," he says quietly.

Steve looks at Bucky thoughtfully then. "Then what did you mean?"

"She's going to grow up with both her dads in her life," Bucky says. "That's really important, I want that more than anything. But growing up with both her dads _living_ with her? That's confusing as hell. That's not fair."

Steve frowns. "How so?"

"We're weird," Bucky says with a half-smile. "We've lived through two lifetimes, each in our own way, and we've changed more than we'll ever really understand. Even if we hadn't, having a kid together wouldn't have exactly been a cake-walk; we didn't mean to mate, we didn't even know you were in heat. We can't expect her to understand all of that, growing up. Me living with you will just make it even more complicated."

Steve swallows back the bitterness at the back of his throat. "So you're saying you don't want to do this _with_ me," he concludes quietly. "As mates." His throat wants to clog, his eyes stinging suspiciously, at the thought, but Steve powers through it. He's not going to put that kind of pressure on Bucky. 

"I'm not saying anything," Bucky says. "You know I'm with you in this, you and Winnie are my life. It just is what it is, isn't it?"

"And what is it, exactly?" Steve demands. 

"A mistake?" Bucky offers, finally looking up at Steve with eyes that are far too wide and far too wet. "A beautiful, perfect mistake, but... It's not like you ever wanted this."

Steve has to take several deep breaths to keep from slapping Bucky, if only to knock some sense in him. "It may have been a mistake in that it was unplanned, but that doesn't mean I didn't want you - that I don't want you."

Bucky blinks, and then blinks again. "You-- What?"

Steve's already said it, so he pushes forward. "The mating was unplanned, yeah, but that doesn't mean I didn't want it. I wouldn't have had sex with you period if I didn't want _you._ Whatever you'd give me."

"Christ, Steve," Bucky huffs. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"No, I'm not," Steve says. "I didn't think about it much before the war, because what use would that be? I hadn't presented, I was a twenty-something in a kid's body, as far as society was concerned. But after I presented... I thought about it some more, but we were in the middle of a war. It was the worst time to say something."

"But if you had," Bucky pushes, "what would you have said?"

Steve toys with the bottle in his hands for a moment. "That I think I'm in love with you," he answers. "After you - after you fell, I knew I was. I am."

"You are?" Bucky asks.

Steve's lips twitch into the semblance of a smile. "Yeah, I am," he admits. 

Bucky's breathing hitches. "I love you, too," he murmurs. "That night was the best of my life."

Steve's smile grows just a little. "Yeah?" he asks. 

"Yeah." Bucky smiles back, soft and tender. "But it would have been whether or not you were an omega. I just didn't know how you felt."

"Well, as nice as that is to know now, I was trying not to think about it too much, and then you went and jumped in front of a bullet for me," Steve says lightly. Then he frowns as a thought strikes him. "Wait a minute. Did you fucking try to court me? With that rabbit, while we were hiking back to base?"

"Uhh." Bucky chuckles, flushes. "I don't remember?"

Steve grins. "You were really gone on me, huh?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, completely without shame. "Still am."

"Well, good," Steve answers. "Because I'm kind of stupidly gone on you, too."

Bucky grins, and then, feeling bold, he reaches out and tugs Steve into his arms. "Wanted to do this for weeks," he admits, his lips against Steve's cheek.

Steve goes eagerly, curling into Bucky with a contented sigh. "Well, you have blanket permission," he says happily. "For all displays of affection, for the record."

Bucky chuckles. "Is that your way of asking for a kiss?"

"Depends," Steve says, twisting so he can face Bucky. "You gonna give me one?"

Bucky's smile softens, and he answers that question by pressing his lips to Steve's.

Steve immediately returns the kiss, pressing in closer to Bucky and wrapping his arms around the alpha's shoulders. The kiss is everything he could've hoped for, and Steve takes the time to savor it. When they finally pull apart, they don't go too far. Steve's smiling now, and he pokes Bucky in the chest. "You better not think about leaving now."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Bucky says lightly, but his eyes are serious as he bumps his nose against Steve's. "Are you sure about this?"

"Sure as I've ever been," Steve says confidently, leaning in for another quick kiss. "You're mine, and I'm yours."

"Always," Bucky promises, "but we can take it slow, feel it out before we rush into anything."

"That sounds like a good plan," Steve says happily; he's probably grinning like a loon, but he can't find it in himself to care for the moment. 

Bucky laughs at him, and kisses him again and pulls him closer. "You're ridiculous," he says fondly.

"Yeah, but you knew that already," Steve says dismissively as he returns the kiss. 

They stay like that for a while, alternately kissing and giggling like school children, but just as things start to heat up between them, Bucky chooses to disentangle himself from Steve's embrace. "Okay," he says, still grinning. "I think it's time to call it a night."

Steve pouts. "Really?"

"Steve," Bucky says, "we're taking it slow, remember? That means I have to go back to my own floor."

Steve wants to argue, but he _did_ agree to that. "All right," he sighs. "But the offer still stands. You're my mate, and I want you here with me, whenever you're ready for that."

Bucky groans and pulls Steve back into another heated kiss. "I'm trying to be responsible," he complains.

"Fuck responsible," Steve growls. "We've already got a kid, Buck. I'm not going anywhere, are you?"

"No," Bucky says, "which is why we can take our time."

Steve huffs. "I hate it when you get sensible on me," he mutters. "Fine, but don't think that's getting you out of cuddling. We've got a lot of time to make up for."

Bucky laughs. "We can cuddle all you want tomorrow," he says. "But if I don't leave now I never will."

Steve chews on his lip for a second, then asks, "Would that really be so bad?"

"Steve..." Bucky warns.

"I'm not saying let's go back to the bedroom and fuck," Steve says hastily, "but I do want to sleep with you - in the same bed as you. That's something I never really got, that neither of us got, and I want that. Do you?"

Bucky's expression softens, and he brings his flesh hand up to cradle Steve's face. "Of course I do."

Steve lifts one hand to cover Bucky's. "Then there's nothing stopping us from doing it," he says quietly. "If you're okay with it, I mean."

"Yeah," Bucky sighs. "Yeah, okay."

Steve's whole expression lights up. "No take backs," he says firmly. 

Bucky snorts, but agrees. "No take backs."

* * *

Bucky fully intends to go back to his own floor, to put some distance between them while they figure out how this is going to work - but he doesn't. One night spent in Steve's bed, in his arms, is enough to sell them both; they're _mates_ , and mates don't need time apart to learn how to be together. They just need to be together.

The other Avengers take the news in stride, Natasha pausing long enough to throw them a _ridiculously_ smug look before going about her business. Unsurprisingly, nothing else changes after Bucky moves what few things he has onto Steve's floor. Winnie loves him being there all the time, and so does Steve; they spend most of their evenings snuggled up together on the sofa, Winnie safe and warm between them, until the whole apartment is filled with their combined scents. It makes something deep and decidedly _alpha_ in Bucky's chest purr.

That same thing is purring now, as he lies sprawled on the couch with Steve leaning against it, playing with Winnie on the floor while Bucky plays with his hair. "Hey," he says softly, thoughtfully. "When was your last heat?"

Steve hums thoughtfully. "A few months ago," he says after a moment. "Shortly before Nat and I headed out on that mission that led to SHIELD imploding. My heats have all been really light; Doctor Jones thinks it's because I already have a child and although my mate was missing, I had another alpha I was close enough to to satisfy my instincts."

Something close to a growl rumbles in Bucky's chest, but he ignores it. "I'm glad," he says, and it's honest. "Do you think that'll change now, though?"

"Doctor Jones thinks so," Steve admits. "I don't know enough about biology to say anything beyond 'something feels different.'"

Bucky makes a soft noise and strokes the back of Steve's head. "You thought about how you want to handle it?"

Steve leans into the touch, but when he answers he keeps his gaze focused on Winnie. "I was hoping you'd help me. Even if we didn't have sex, it'd be nice to have you nearby."

"Of course," Bucky says, sinking his fingers back into Steve's hair. "Whatever you need."

Silence falls between them for a few moments, and then Steve asks tentatively, "Would you? Want to have sex, I mean."

Bucky's hand stills. "If you would," he says carefully. "I know I moved in pretty quick, but I meant it when I said we could take it slow."

"I know," Steve says hastily. "But if we did... Well, would you want to use protection?" If sex was going to be anywhere remotely near 'on the table' then Steve wanted to talk about this all before he was in the middle of his heat.

Bucky sighs, sits up a little on the couch. "That depends," he says.

"On?"

"On what you see in our future," Bucky says. "Don't think I don't know you were throwing yourself around fighting aliens a week after you came out of the ice. I'm not going to let you do that during a second pregnancy."

Steve flushes at the reprimand. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to do that either," he murmurs. It'd been a miracle that he hadn't lost Winnie during that fight with Loki and the Chitauri. He hesitates for a moment, then says, "I'd like to have some more children, but not while I'm still doing the whole superhero thing."

Bucky smiles. "No thoughts of retiring?" he asks mildly, like he already knows the answer.

Steve sighs. "Not just yet," he admits. "I can still help people, and I don't know how to stop doing that. And with SHIELD gone, the world needs the Avengers even more now."

"Your family needs you, too," Bucky says softly, not unkindly.

"I know," Steve says. "But I'm not just Steve Rogers, am I? I'm also Captain America, and I can't just turn my back on what that means."

"I get that," Bucky promises. "And you know I'll support you. But maybe you're right and more children aren't such a good idea."

"Maybe not right now, but in a few years?" Steve suggests. 

Bucky smiles again. "Sure thing."

Steve tilts his head back so that this time he can direct his smile at Bucky. "I do want more children," he promises, "but I agree that it's too dangerous to do superhero work while pregnant."

Bucky touches Steve's face, glances past him to Winnie. "I love you both," he murmurs. "I don't want to risk either of you. Which is why I won't be going back out into the field, not unless you really need me to."

Steve smiles softly; while he'd love to have Bucky watching his back, they've talked enough about what happened during his time as the Winter Soldier that Steve understands why Bucky doesn't want to go back to fighting. "Well, hopefully things won't get that bad," he days. 

Bucky nods, searching Steve's face. "You've got good people on your team," he says. "They'll keep you safe. But someone's gotta watch the little one, right?"

"Yeah," Steve admits, reaching up until he can take Bucky's hand in his. "And there's no one I'd trust more to keep her safe."

"Just make sure you come home to us," Bucky says, squeezing Steve's hand. "I'd hate to have to kill everyone in this place for not watching your six."

Steve laughs. "I will always do everything I can to come home," he promises; it's the best he can, considering his line of work.

Bucky knows that, of course, and he treats Steve to a tender smile. "Come on," he says. "I think it's time to get a certain someone ready for bed."

Winnie, who has been playing contentedly on the floor, utterly oblivious to their conversation, whips her head around at this last word to give them both a scandalised look. "Pa!" she cries. "No!"

Steve can't help but burst out laughing, leaning forward to scoop Winnie into his arms and give her a wet, smacking kiss on the cheek. "Yes, I think it is time for bed; if you ask nicely, you can get Pa to read you a bedtime story."

Winnie is quick to abandon her outrage in favour of pasting on a brilliant smile and reaching for Bucky. "Papa! Peeeeease!"

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he gets to his feet with a good-natured sigh. "Okay," he says, "but Daddy has to help me with the voices."

Winnie squeals.


End file.
